Vicky

 © 2012 Nick B

“Are you ready?” the leggy brunette asked of her friend.

“I guess so,” she replied.

“I’ll come and get you when he’s ready,” the brunette said and entered a sumptuously decorated bedroom.

A man in his mid thirties sat on the edge of the bed, looking somewhat nervous.

“Good evening,” the brunette said, swishing towards him in a baby-doll nightie in diaphanous black nylon with equally diaphanous knickers that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

The man gulped down a mouthful of air and didn’t appear to know which way to look. “Um … hello,” he croaked.

“Madam Sylvie told me that you had a special request?” the brunette said.

“Yes,” the man replied, explaining whilst going incredibly red that he wanted to be cuffed and manacled and be under her complete control.

“No problem,” the brunette agreed, helping him off with his jacket.

The rest of his clothes came off quickly and in no time at all he was spread-eagled on the bed as the brunette began cuffing him to the posts before shackling him to the posts at the foot of the bed.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, his face a picture of uncertainty.

She began by sitting beside him, running a perfectly manicured fingernail from his calf, up the side of his leg, over his hip and up the side of his body.

“Do you want it rough?” she asked.

“N-no,” he replied, hoarsely.

“Okay,” she said, tracing a line with the same fingernail across his chest, circling each of his nipples in turn.

He responded by taking a sharp intake of breath, accompanied by a twitch from his nether regions.

“You like?” she asked teasingly, which was a superfluous question really, considering the effect. She traced her nail back down the middle of his chest, through the neatly trimmed bush of his pubic hairs and down to the tip of his penis, which twitched into life immediately.

Bending over him, she kissed each of his nipples, the centre of his chest and then made her way down to his tool, kissing repeatedly as she did so, ending with a kiss, followed by a lick from base to tip of his cut penis, causing it to throb and twitch.

As he gasped, she stopped, stood and told him that she would not be servicing him as he thought, but someone else would; someone a little special and if he’d just be patient, she would be with him directly.

He looked puzzled and in the space of seconds, his penis began to relax, twitching once or twice, before flopping back on his lower belly, shrinking all the time.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “We’ll soon have that up and running again.”

“Is he ready?” the brunette’s friend asked.

She was much younger and shorter than the brunette and blonde — well kind of a dull blonde, not a brassy, bottle blonde, but much more natural. Had she not been wearing a white baby-doll, in that same almost transparent material as the first girl, which in this case, made her look almost virginal, she wouldn’t have looked as though she belonged where she was.

The two hugged before the blonde strutted into the bedroom, straight to the foot of the bed, to stare at the man securely fastened there.

“Hi,” she said, a slight quaver to her voice, almost as though she wasn’t sure she would go through with what was clearly about to ensue. “My name’s Vicky. I shall be taking over from here.”

The man looked up as best he could, but had little room to manoeuvre. “’K” he managed.

Vicky moved to the side of the bed. “You like?” she asked, slowly turning on the spot, making sure he got to see everything.

He nodded.

“Good,” she said, following that with a smile that seemed to light up the entire room.

Concealed in her hand, she had a small, square package, which she tore open to reveal a condom.

“We have to,” she told him and having so said, she popped the small, rubber contraceptive in her mouth and went straight for his penis, her hands enveloping it, gently moving up and down, squeezing and relaxing as they did. It took just moments for it to become as hard as carbon steel and as hot as a poker, fresh from the forge.

Deftly, she engulfed his penis in her mouth and as she slid down the entire length of it, the strategically held condom unrolled, remaining in place as she raised and lowered her head, sucking noisily for several minutes until she finally sat up, looked directly into the man’s eyes and smiled.

“Was that nice?”

This time the man, eyes like serving platters, nodded enthusiastically.

“Good,” she repeated and shucked her knickers in front of him, displaying her completely hairless crotch complete with a large cock, that up until then had been tucked between her legs.

“What is this?” he exclaimed, his eyes bulging as he strained against the restraints.

“Shhh!” she said, touching his lips with her forefinger, straddling him and sliding backwards, his rapidly deflating tool clenched tightly between the cheeks of her arse.

“Do you really want me to stop?” she asked, pulling off the baby-doll and displaying the rest of a near perfect body and the fact that asied from the penis, everything else was absolutely as it should be.

“N-n-no,” he replied, his cock already responding splendidly to her sliding back and forth along its length.

“I didn’t think so,” she replied, smiling and adjusting her position so that she could reach under her, grab his cock and position it at the entrance to her hole, gyrating her hips on it and continuing as it slowly slid into her until it was buried to the hilt.

No more than two strokes took the man to the limit and once he’d finished shaking, Vicky slid off with a ‘plop’, leaving him lying there with a stupid grin on his face.

Immediately, she unfastened the manacles and the cuffs and the man noticed that she seemed to be sniffing back tears, trying not to cry.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. “It was all my fault.”

“What was your fault?”

“You came so quickly.”

“Yes, and it was amazing,” he said.

“I-i-it was?” she asked in a very small, almost inaudible voice.

He slid up the bed and sat next her, putting his arm about her and drawing her close. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” he told her.

“But you paid for so much longer–”

“It’s not the quantity; it’s the quality that matters and that was definitely the best.”

She began to cry. “You’re just being nice.”

“No, I’m being honest,” he said and thought for a moment. “But I’d like to know why you’re doing this if you feel so bad about what you’re doing.”

“You don’t want to know about me,” she told him, carefully wiping her eyes.

“I do!”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Alright,” she said at last. “It was my father. After my mother died, he would make me dress as a girl. I spent the whole of my school life, leading a dual life. I’d go to school as Victor and come home to be Victoria, my father’s plaything.” She began crying again.

“There, there,” the man said, comfortingly.

“Well, as I got to about fourteen, I started to become more boyish and my father took steps to see that that didn’t go any further. By that time, he had friends who would all play ‘games’ with Vicky, his little slut and none of them cared that I wasn’t a girl, in fact, some of them liked it, playing with my dick or sometimes sucking it. They’d all buy me presents of lingerie in return for …”

“Sex?”

“Yes.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know. I couldn’t get away. It was more than my life was worth to defy my father and since his ‘friends’ were everywhere, there was nowhere I could go. When I reached sixteen, I was locked in the house all the time, but one day my father let me go to the shops — of course, as Victoria, thinking I wouldn't dare stray and while I was out, I met Grace — the woman who brought you in here — and she got me into this place. I don’t want to stay here, but I have nowhere else to go.”

“God, that’s terrible.”

“It’s okay. Most of the men I have to ‘please’ are okay — not as nice as you — but okay. Anyway, it’s only until I get enough money to have the operation to make me a real girl.”

“But why? You could go back to being Victor and start a new life.”

“I couldn’t go back. I’ve been like this for so long I don’t know any other way.”

The man looked at the floor, obviously embarrassed. “I hate myself,” he said. “I really enjoyed our time together and if I hadn’t lost control so quickly, I would like to have reciprocated in some way. You were just so fantastic.”

“Please, don’t. It’s what I’m paid for after all.”

“Is there nothing I can do?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“Well, I’m sure I can think of something.”

With that, the man got up, peeled the used condom off his penis and went into the bathroom with his clothes. No more than two minutes later, he said a heartfelt goodbye to Vicky and was heading out of the door he entered by.

Vicky left a couple of minutes later.

When Vicky emerged from the room, Madam Sylvie had one of those looks on her face.

“He was out very quickly. What have you been doing?” she asked.

“He finished quickly,” she said by way of explanation.

“That was the excuse you used last time too.”

“But it’s true. I’d only just got going and that was it. He wanted me to talk to him for a few minutes and then left.”

“Talk?”

“Yes, talk?”

“Well, he can’t have been unhappy; he left a two hundred pound tip — the third person this week to do that and it’s only Tuesday. What do you talk about?”

“I make up stories about my childhood and …” she left it hanging.

"What kind of stories?"

"I try not to make them feel inadequate for coming so quickly, so I blame it on me. I tell them stories about having an awful childhood and it seems it leaves an impression."

Madam Sylvie just stared at Vicky, completely dumbstruck.

“She been telling stories again?” asked Grace.

Madam Sylvie nodded blankly.

“The uncle?” Grace asked.

“My father,” Vicky said, grinning.

“Oh, that one,” Grace replied, nodding. “That one would definitely do it.”