Joan in the Desertbyreddear©
"You're more palatable when properly decorated ... and embellished, which you soon will be."
She snapped her crop lightly at his ass and asked, "Have you forgotten how to reply?"
"No mistress," he said, shivering slightly.
"That's Lady, not mistress, but you know that." She struck him harder. He quivered more, and then this sprightly give and take went on for what seemed like twenty minutes without any help from me, which was lucky because I was having trouble not breaking out in giggles, or outright laughter. There was bootlicking and crawling and even a bit of nipple sucking until she turned to me and said, "Bind that thong about his balls and lead him to that bench," which I did. Nice ones, too.
"What think you of him, Nicole?" she asked.
I stumbled for a second and said, "Why, he is but a worsted-stocking one-trunk-inheriting knave. He must be a great disappointment to any woman whom he, prematurely, comes upon."
Now it was Mary's turn to stifle a giggling fit. "Still," she said, "he may one day improve. Let us finish him and be done." She grasped his cock with her gloved hand and said in a low and menacing voice, "Come for me now, knave, before my patience is exhausted." And he did, in seconds.
When he'd dressed and was safely gone she lost it, dissolving first into giggles and then guffaws. "My God," she said. "Lear. Don't do that to me again."
"It was all I could think of."
"OK," she said. "If it's not your thing it's campy and ridiculous. All the melodramatic menace and set piece dialogue. I don't think you're going to make it as a Domme.
"So let's try the other side. Strip."
"You heard me, Nicole. Faye and I and others suspect that you have a deep subservient streak. We think that you are probably a submissive, and so now we'll find out. You must know it's why you're here, so strip, please."
My heart pounded and my nipples began to tingle as I stripped. When I was done she picked up the linked cuffs and said, "Turn around and put your hands behind your back." She fastened my wrists together and then added another set above my elbows, forcing my chest out. Then another around my ankles.
"I have noticed that forceful, intelligent women in positions of power -- doctors, lawyers, teachers, businesswomen -- drive themselves mercilessly and then often seek relief in submissive play. Joan is such a woman, and I think she badly needs that kind of relief. Nicole is her submissive mirror image, her reverse, her complement. Nicole and I are going to play now. Turn around and look at the mirror as I put this collar on you. Yes, it's campy and pathetic, except that now it's on you. Let's see what else we have. Ah, nipple suckers; little rubbers cups that go on like this. They even have bells on them; how jolly. Let's see what else. Oh, yes, a gag. It's a wiffle ball with a strap through it, you see. Now open up. There, do you enjoy that? Don't bother trying to answer now; we'll talk about it later. I like your hennaed brand, by the way. Your tits are too small, but that can be fixed.
"Now let's put this leash on your collar and take you over here. Just shuffle along as best you can. Looks a bit like a sawhorse, doesn't it. Just stand here at the end and bend over. Good, now spread your legs apart and I'll snap them to the sides. Now this strap goes around your hips and your collar clips to this ring and you're ready. Where is that wand? Ah, here it is. Let's get you warmed up."
And she did. Through all this I didn't resist. I didn't know why, but I meekly did everything she commanded me to. Then the wand vibrator started up and she touched it to my pussy. Oh, God. I bucked and clenched but soon I was trying to thrust back toward the wand. Then she struck my ass with the crop and I froze. She hit me again, harder, but I didn't move. She then concentrated on the wand for a minute until I was bucking and moaning more than ever.
"Are you ready now Nicole? I think you are. I want you to come for me. Go ahead. Now!"
And I did. And again. And again.
"Well," she said, "I suspect that you're probably ready for some real cock by now. Is that right? Just nod."
Again, for some reason, I did.
"All these toys and the dungeon rental aren't free, and for odd legal reasons it doesn't count as prostitution if we film it. The paper you signed was a video release, and Steve here is going to fuck you now. Come over here now, Steve. He's in the porn guild, so he's certified disease free, and he's going to fuck you bareback. It's a convention in hetero porn. I think she's ready for you, Steve."
I was, and so was he. Mary filmed the action as he began to rub his cock against my soaking labia and clitoris. Then he quickly thrust inside me and my rational brain shut down, as usual. I came and came and came for hours as he banged me brutally, until he finally pulled out of me and came on the small of my back and my ass. It was actually about fifteen minutes. I loved it. I loved the restraint and the inevitability and the idea of being controlled. I wanted more.
But Mary turned off the camera and when I eventually came down from my high she unclipped my collar ankles, wrist and waist from the sawhorse thing and stood me up. She clipped a leash to my collar and led me toward a door.
"It's not so lame when it's your kink, is it?" she asked, smiling.
I was surprised when we got through the door and were back at the ticket booth. There were half a dozen people there, looking at framed photos and prices posted on the wall. Mary posed me, nude, bound and gagged with my nipple suckers tinkling, in the midst of them.
"This is Nicole, another satisfied customer, who has just been well and thoroughly fucked. She is, as you can see, still gagged, but I'll ask her to nod if she agrees."
I nodded, and she led me through the Staff door to the dressing room. She removed my restraints and after we got back into our street clothes we walked back through the corridor and up the stairs to the sex shop.
"I know you're trying to make sense of everything that just happened, but I can assure you that you are a true submissive. Now let's buy some toys and get out of here. Faye said the Hen House would pay for half of everything you buy, so let's shop."
Which we did. I can't remember it all, but we got a collar, cuffs, nipple suckers (my favorite), a rabbit vibrator, lube and enough rope and leather straps to load a string of pack mules for a Montana elk hunt. It came to $700 total and I was worried that I'd have to pay extra because my suitcase was overweight on the way back. I didn't.
Mary, as it turned out, was married. Her husband was movie star handsome and some sort of television producer. They had a three story house with parking for two cars in the slightly sunken garage level, and the place was furnished and decorated in excellent taste, though I was too tired to appreciate it. It must have cost the earth, in San Francisco. After dinner, which he cooked, he went off to his office to do homework and left us with the keys to the notional wine cellar.
When we got to the veritas stage of the wine drinking she said, "It's true, what I said. You're a natural submissive. You don't go for pain at all, but you love the restraint and being controlled and set free to orgasm 'till dawn. Nicole does anyway. Joan is a shrewd and efficient businesswoman, though still inexperienced. Yes, Faye told me about your personae, but I would have picked up on it. I mean this as a compliment when I say that I can almost always tell when I see a woman who can do well on the game and, trust me, you're one. You'll make a sharp businesswoman, a multi-orgasmic submissive and a hell of a whore. It's who you are."
We went off to bed somehow and the next afternoon I flew back to Vegas. When I unpacked I found she'd slipped a couple books into my suitcase: The Story of O and The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty. She had indeed sussed me out, though I wished I'd had them to read on the plane. I liked her a lot.
Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch
Profits were going up. We were keeping a lot more money as my bookkeeping changes kicked in, but receipts were going up too.
At an afternoon meeting with Faye and Rusty, she suddenly said," Joan, the business is doing better and better, and we think you've had a lot to do with it, so we want to raise you wage to thirty dollars an hour. Nicole's had a lot to do with it too, and with the stuff you brought back from San Francisco we'd like to have you start doing some light bondage and submissive play. We won't set up a dungeon and, as I said, it'll really be fairly tame stuff, but there's a profitable market for it. For anything involving bondage or restraint, the gentleman will have to have another girl in the room and that will add to the profits."
I started to thank them effusively for the raise, but Rusty broke in to ask, "Do you have a lease on your apartment in Las Vegas? And what's the rent? I have an idea."
I told them that I'd been there for over a year so it was month-to-month now. When I told them what the rent was Rusty said, "That's outrageous, but not surprising. Look, I've still got some real estate contacts around here and I know of a small ranch house that would rent for half what you're paying in Vegas. I could probably work a lease/purchase deal, so what do you say? Why not cut you ties with Vegas and move up here? It's where your future is. So, what do you say?"
I told him that it sounded like a good idea, but I'd have to have a look at the place he had in mind.
Then Faye said, "There's one other thing I've been thinking of. Have you ever thought of getting breast implants?"
"Not until I started this job, I hadn't, but frankly since I was with Mary I've been thinking about it a lot."
"Well, we'd like to make you an offer. We know a good plastic surgeon in Vegas, and we'll pay for you to get implants if in return you agree to get your henna Hen House tattoo turned into a real one."
"Well, I'm tempted," I said, "but I'd have to think about it."
"You'd be the one to decide what size you want and we won't try to influence your choice," Faye said.
"OK, I've thought about it. I'll do it."
Bob got me an appointment with the surgeon for the next Monday. It was fairly tedious and the only thing I remember about it was that he said that most women who get implants end up wanting D-cup breasts. Since that's what I'd been considering already, I agreed and scheduled surgery for the next day. It must have been scheduled already. Afterwards I was out of it, of course, and Rusty drove me back to Beatty that evening. Luckily I had a big bottle of Percocet, so when the tattoo artist came out to the Hen House to work on me I almost slept through it. I was pretty rocky for about a week, though I tried to do some work at my accounting job.
I got a major surprise when my restraining bandages came off. My tits were huge! I don't know what I expected. I guess small B-cup girls who lust after D-cups in the abstract aren't ready for the reality. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise. They were just always there and they were impossible to ignore, by my or anybody else in the world. I felt as though I was always pointing them at people. Stick 'em up! I sure did. I slowly got used my "aftermarket breasts," as Penn Jillette calls them. Guys loved them, of course, but I was surprised again when they seemed to raise my status among the girls. They seemed to see me as more of a leader. Yeah, lead with your tits.
I liked my tattoo too. It surprised me how much. I'm certain it's part of the submissive thing.
I moved my stuff out of the apartment in Vegas and into the little house by the river about two miles from the Hen House. I did get it for lease/purchase, for the amount Rusty had quoted. He's a good realtor, if an unconvincing cowboy.
Once Nicole went back to work I started doing bondage play. I had several sets of play handcuffs and I found out there was a webbing sex swing in one of the rooms. I love being cuffed into it and being fucked to incoherent submission, and because I can get out of the cuffs at any time I don't need to have another girl in the room.
Over the next couple months business picked up some more. Bondage play tends to be time-consuming, what with doing up straps and fumbling for keys, let alone tying and, worse, untying knots. But for that I could have done ten guys a night, and I did, a couple times. I could have done fifteen, but Joan would have been too frazzled to find her computer keyboard. As it was, I once dressed up in Daisy Duke shorts with a checkered shirt tied under my braless tits and a butt plug in my ass and tried to do my computer work. It didn't work well, though it was a lot of fun. Tammy gets some really bad ideas sometimes.
Talking with Rusty and Faye, it became obvious that we needed more girls. When they asked me if I had any idea how to get more I said. "Treat 'em better. Oh, there are some other things we can do, like starting a website with an Employment link, or advertising in the free papers in Las Vegas and Reno to get illegal free agents to come and work for us. We might be able to get some hard up porn actresses to come here for a bit, but I don't think they'd stay long and we're not really into that visiting celebrity thing. I think that our best hiring strategy is going to be word of mouth. Girls know other girls, and I think if we treat the girls here better than anybody else does more girls will come here. They're supposedly private contractors. Yeah, right. We should set up a bank account for each of them and file their 1099s and pay their quarterly taxes out of their accounts. I've looked into it, and we should pay their medical exam fees and their license fees. We could afford it. I haven't figured out anything we could do for them about health insurance, and the best we may be able to do is set up a charitable fund to help them out if they get sick, or their kids or parents do. Beyond that, we might come up with someplace where they can put some money aside as an investment, if they can afford it. Oh, and categorizing their deductable expenses. Did you know that there's case law that' says lube and batteries are deductable? I think it's from web-caming, but still.... I think the most helpful thing would be taking on the burden of dealing with their taxes and fees. None of them is an accountant -- well, maybe one -- and I think it would make their lives easier and help us in the long run."
We sat there for a minute until Rusty said, "You sure can make a case for yourself. It reminds me of Slim Pickens in Blazing...."
"Save your down-home stories for later, dear. I think we need to look at Joan's figures and try to do what she suggests."
And they did, and it pretty much worked out the way it was supposed to over the course of the next year or so. We got more girls in to the Hen House with little amazingly little effort. I paid off all my student loans, got a (gently used) lady's market car and started piling up money in overseas bonds. We planted scrub oak and juniper to hide the legally-mandated chain link fence and redecorated the lounge in a style that matched the library in the ranch house. I even moved some Burke and MacAulay to the bookshelves there, but none the clients seem to read them while they're waiting for a lineup. They seem preoccupied somehow. Oh, well.
Last month Rusty found out about an opportunity to buy a brothel that's going bust in Armargosa Valley. If we get it I'll buy in as a partner and take over as manager. Not a bad prospect, for somebody who was an impoverished ex-student with vague ambitions of doing something in business two years ago. If it works out I'll need another accountant -- two, really. Luckily, I know just how to go about finding them, "and putting them to use," as Rusty's role model Slim would say.