The Gigolo Read online

  “Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.” He slapped her buttocks repeatedly and rhythmically, not too hard to hurt, just enough to reinforce the sexual dynamics; he was the Boss, she was the Slave. “Don’t be a wimp, relax and enjoy,” he said, with a slight giggle, and carried on slapping, but a little softer.

  “Ohh, that’s nice,” was his reward.

  She was loving the game, no man had ever taken control away from her and dominated her like this. He was good, very good; she was in a state of arousal and had been since she came into the bedroom. Paul knew how to keep a woman aroused for hours if need be and in that state of arousal, a woman will do anything and give him anything he asked.

  He stopped, again. “Open your legs.” He didn’t need to put his fingers inside her, he could see her she was dripping wet and the juices were trickling out of her.

  She was simmering nicely, very compliant and quiet too.

  “Stand up and let me look at you,” he said. She obeyed… “Now lie on the bed.”

  She obeyed without hesitation this time, she was being conditioned. Although she didn’t know it, she had submitted her will to him, in the bedroom, forgetting who was supposed to be in charge and hoping that he would give her prolonged and intense sexual pleasure.

  He would invent the game, create the fantasy, take the lead, do all the work, spend all his time keeping her aroused and giving her super orgasms and she wouldn’t have to lift a finger, just be there and be obedient and all that sexual pleasure would come her way for nothing, happy days!

  She had no idea that soon she would become paranoid, neurotic, bad tempered, lose sleep and pull her hair out, because she would soon fall under his spell and become addicted to him, his sex slave.

  She lay on the bed, she spread her arms and legs and he tied them to the four corners of the metal bed posts. She was now helpless and vulnerable, but by now she wasn’t thinking about anything but her orgasms.

  She was still blindfolded and smiling; he put a cushion under her bottom to push her pelvis higher in the air. As he was preparing to tie the ropes, she felt for his cock, she noticed – he was still dressed?

  He was at the end of the bed. He started on her toes, stroking, then licking, each one in his mouth, licking and sucking, one by one. She loved that, that was new too, softly kissing, licking the sole of her foot, then the ankle, kissing and stroking it, then up her leg, behind her knee slowly stroking, kissing, licking, up to her groin then over and down the inside of her other leg, stroking, kissing, licking, all the time, then her other ankle, over the sole of her foot, to her toes again, each one kissed, licked, cared for.

  He looked at her, then the clock by the bed – thirty minutes in, time to start on her pussy. There was another hour and a half to go and he had to time it right.

  He moved around, to the top of the bed and for the first time kissed her; she moved quickly, forcing her tongue out, but he’d moved his face away, to tease her, he did it again and she flashed her tongue again too.

  Leaning over her now, stroking, kissing, nibbling her neck, her ear, softly, lovingly.

  “Ohh, that’s so good,” she whispered.

  Over her face, to the other side, kissing her lips on the way, he touched her arms with both his hands, the soft underside where it’s more sensitive, up and down, up and down, over her breasts. She couldn’t move at all, she just lay back and gave herself to him.

  By this time she was gone, she was in ‘The Zone’, a name he had for the depth of arousal his women achieved. They seemed to go into an almost hypnotic sexual state of mind.

  It was in ‘The Zone’ where he wanted Trudy to be, then he could dominate her inside and outside the bedroom as well; he could work for her at first, then she would become his slave, his sex slave, working for him.

  He worked on her breasts again, squeezing and squeezing; he then bent over and licked a nipple, licking and flicking it back and forth with his tongue, softly biting it and rolling it between his teeth.

  He could tell by her body movements how much she enjoyed this.

  Pussy time now, he thought. He stood up and opened the top drawer of his bedside cupboard, all his tricks and toys were there ready.

  Paul picked up the softer pegs, clamped one nipple and then the other; she flinched and wriggled her breasts, but said nothing.

  Stepping to the end of the bed, he placed down, on the duvet, a couple of vibrators, some gaffer tape, some string and some more pegs.

  He switched a vibrator on, so she could hear it and anticipate the next move. He switched it off again and she sank a little.

  Her legs were wide apart, ready and waiting; her extremely wet pussy was now getting impatient.

  He pegged the flaps of skin on both sides of her pussy, attached the string to the pegs and proceeded to open them wide and tape the sting to her thighs with the gaffer tape, thus revealing her clitoris and freeing his hands.

  Paul picked up the vibrator, the one with the lead that separates the handle from the vibrating head.

  He taped the head to her tightly exposed clitoris; he switched it on to test its position.

  “Ohh yes, yes, yes,” was the response. He switched it off. Teasing and anticipation, he thought. Teasing and anticipation.

  He stood up and started to undress. He placed his clothes carefully on the chair, but lingered over removing his trousers, emphasising the zipping sound.

  Oh yes, she thought. Here we go.

  He looked at the clock, checking the time. He stepped out of his trousers and was naked.

  She felt his leg stretch across her face; he positioned himself on her chest, gently, with his knees either side of her body.

  He kissed her, teasing her mouth open with his kisses and his tongue. “Open your mouth, wide, put your tongue out.” She obeyed. “Lick my cock.” She obeyed. “Lick it up and down, up and down.”

  He moved his cock up and down her tongue, rolling it around her tongue, using her tongue to make himself erect.

  “That’s a good girl,” he said.

  “Open your mouth, put your tongue back in, now take my cock all the way in, to the back of your throat, that’s it.”

  He pushed it in, all the way, slowly, over her tongue, letting her enjoy the moment. Slowly he pulled it back, then in slowly; she had no will of her own, she was just there to please her ‘boss’. Her body was entirely for his pleasure, and his pleasure was her pleasure, she was just his ‘slave’ to do whatever he wanted her to do and she loved it!

  In, out, in, out, deeper every time. He was fucking her face harder now, holding on to her hair. She walked into his apartment so high and mighty and now she was spread-eagled, blindfolded, tied and bound and totally submissive to his will – what a turnaround!

  He took his cock out of her mouth; he didn’t want to come yet, if at all. He then used it to stroke her face and mouth, her tongue was darting left and right to catch it, she was fully aroused and wanted it badly, in her mouth or in her pussy, just in her and now.

  “Fuck me, fuck me now. I want cock, I want cock,” she spluttered out, struggling against her ropes.

  He ignored her and moved to face her pussy.

  He put a finger inside her and she squirmed on it, then two. He started to rub the front of her pussy, the place where a woman pees from.

  She liked that, now she was trying to move up and down, trying to fuck his fingers, now three fingers, in and out quickly, now four.

  “Arrhhh.” She was going for it: in, out, in out. He switched on the vibrator and removed his fingers, replacing them with a medium-sized dildo, with a handle; this, he switched on too.

  He rammed it into her hard and fast, non-stop, in, out, in, out, steadying himself with one hand on her thigh, in, out, in out, hard as he could.

  She was pushing back with all her might, her lower body and pussy as high into the air as she could.

  She starting to have her first orgasm; it rippled through her body, intensified by the fact she couldn’t move and was helpless
and blindfolded.

  “Arrh yes, yes, yes.” She was panting now. Number one gone, harder and harder he pushed in the dildo, in and out, in and out; her legs were trying to jerk and lock, her stomach muscles were tightening, her heart was pounding.

  “Arrhh.” Number two was on its way. He turned up the switch on the taped vibrator.

  “Ohhh gaw, that was a good one too,” she said as it hit her again, then a lovely feeling of being used and abused and knowing there was nothing she could do about it, just accept being a whore.

  He stopped for a while, switched off the vibrators and got up off the bed.

  He looked at her panting and smiling, he could see the rise and fall of her breasts; he just had to stretch his legs.

  “Don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” She was getting louder each time she said it.

  Yes, he thought, you’re begging for it now.

  After a minute, he untied her legs. She thought it was all over, but no, he lifted her leg up and towards her face as far as it would go, then tied it to a hook in the wall. He repeated his actions with the other leg.

  She was now tied to a bed, arms outstretched, legs wide apart up in the air. The whore’s position, he thought.

  Now, back to it, he thought. He looked at her and rubbed his cock back and forth to remain erect, switched on the taped vibrator, knelt before her unashamedly exposed pussy and rammed his cock into it, in one thrust.

  He held both thighs with both hands and fucked her as hard as he could, relentlessly, non-stop, a savage and hard assault on her slavering pussy.

  She could feel his cock plunging into her again and again and again; she could feel the vibrator, hot now, and pulling out of her, without mercy, another orgasm.

  She could feel it coming, number three, or number four, was it? She lost count. It was coming, coming, it was going to be another biggie.

  “Fuck harder, harder, harder. Arrhhh, fucking hell, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  There, she’d had it – the biggest orgasm of the day and the biggest for a long time.

  “I’m fucked now,” she said, almost collapsing, panting for breath.

  He stopped what he was doing. “A cup of tea then,” he said in reply.

  He switched off the vibrator, gently untied her legs and arms, removed the blindfold and almost placed her into the bed, wrapping the sheets around her neck.

  She thought he was so caring and thoughtful and gave her the best sex on the planet.

  He picked up a dressing gown and went to make the tea.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Agency Fight

  Trudy went home exhausted after the previous day’s proceedings.

  She didn’t know what to think. Paul was a man that she could see herself wanting again and again and at her bidding, but she could also see him out there working for her and earning her a nice return on her investment.

  A couple more like him and I could retire, she thought, but then again, one like him at home and I could be very a very happy girl.

  Lots of scenarios and flights of fancy flitted through her mind that night. Yes, he had certainly disturbed her and sown seeds of desire in her fertile mind.

  He was the last thing she thought of before she went to sleep and the first thing she thought about, when she awoke.

  She got up the next day, still tingling and thinking about the day before. She was in her office, at The Summer Nights Agency, behind her desk, looking out of the window, waiting for Paul, for his nine o’clock morning meeting with her, to finalise and sign the contract with her, then she would ‘own’ him. She laughed.

  Then he could do whatever he liked with me, she added… I mean, I can do anything I like with him, she corrected quickly.

  It had started already, the emotional conflict; the adage of mixing business with pleasure was very true – it applied equally to both men and women, but even more so to somebody like Trudy, a woman that life had scorned and scarred so badly.

  Paul had awoken, bright and early, without any thoughts about the day before, except that he had a business meeting with his boss that could turn out to be quite lucrative, if he played his cards right and behaved himself, which is just what he intended to do. No sir, no fiascos this time, no contra temps, no arguing, no attitudes, oh, and definitely no messing with the women, just strictly business, wham, bam, thank you ma’am.

  He thought to himself, If I had a pound for every time I’ve said that, I wouldn’t have to work… ha… ha… ha.

  He arrived at the office block where Trudy worked shortly before nine; he strolled into the foyer and up the stairs to the second floor, to the Summer Nights door.

  He knocked twice and walked in, only to be greeted by what seemed like a bouncer, a young, tall, fit, but stupid-looking man, what Paul called ‘a pub hunk’.

  He stopped Paul dead, with a glare and a prod… Not a good move at all.

  “Don’t come in, until I say, ‘Come in,’” he said. His name was Karl.

  “I’ve got an appointment,” said Paul, pushing the young man aside, without a thought.

  The young man turned quickly and grabbed at Paul’s left shoulder with his right hand, a double mistake. Paul used his left to push the arm sideways, exposing the chin – whack – one uppercut knocked the would-be young tough guy onto his back, dazed and ready for boot stomp on his face, and that’s what he would have got, if another of Trudy’s heavies hadn’t appeared from nowhere and calmed the situation down.

  “Ok fellow, he’s had his lesson for the day, let him up.” It was said matter-of-fact, in a mock friendly sort of tone, by a shorter, slimmer, older man, with a moustache and dark, greased back hair, named Clive.

  Clive was standing in the corridor, blocking any further entrance towards Trudy; he leaned in doorway, slouching almost, with one hand in his pocket, where he kept his flick knife.

  He showed no emotion or feelings about the situation, he was a man that had been involved with violence all his life and was blasé to it, a man that could use violence like a tool, as and when needed, a man with no allegiances to anyone but his paymaster.

  Of the two men, the younger one, Karl, was almost harmless. He was new to the ‘bouncing’ game; he thought himself tough, but he had so much to learn.

  His problem was that he didn’t particularly enjoy violence, but he thought he could switch it on and off, like Clive could.

  Karl didn’t know it, but being able to apply violence at will, was the by-product of giving and taking many beatings over the years. It was this fact alone, that developed the necessary skill set needed to be like Clive, or like Paul for that matter.

  Yes, Clive was the one that could be dangerous and he was the one to watch out for, thought Paul.

  Paul feigned nonchalance.

  “Hello there, I’m Paul Smith, I’m here to see Trudy, and I’ve a nine o’clock appointment.”

  “Carry on to the end door. She’s waiting for you,” Clive answered. “Can you get up, Karl?” Clive continued, impatiently.

  Paul knocked and this time waited. Trudy opened the door, smiling.

  “Come in Paul, come in. What was that noise?” she said curiously.

  “Oh, something fell over, I think,” Paul replied.

  She ushered him to the seat opposite her, at her desk, and passed him some papers.

  “I’ve marked where you need to sign,” she said, looking almost like a solicitor, with half reading glasses on the tip of her nose. Paul briefly scanned the papers and signed.

  “Right, that’s that done, when do I start work?”

  She got up and turned around; she seemed slightly unsettled as she picked up her glass and looked back at him.

  “Drink?” she offered. She had a gin and tonic already and showed it to him.

  “Yes, whatever you’re having will be fine.”

  She freshened her glass and then made him his drink. She unconsciously tasted his drink before giving it to him, as lovers do, without thought; he noticed and he wasn’t amus
ed at the familiarity of it.

  “Thank you,” he said and turned the glass around, so that his lips didn’t touch her lipstick stain, pulling a disdainful face as he did so.

  She noticed his actions and understood the situation fully, it was just business to him and business only. The other night was just a demonstration of what he could do, to earn his keep and nothing else. She wasn’t sure now, if he even liked her.

  She was annoyed at herself for almost thinking it could have been some sort of a connection. She’d been silly, she knew, but she wouldn’t be again, she promised herself.

  “Let’s make a start, shall we?” she said, reaffirming her position as the boss and glancing at her watch. There was a change of mood now and it showed.

  “I have quite a few lady clients that would be interested in your particular capabilities, Paul, and I would like you to start work on them as soon as possible. In fact I have one you can see almost immediately, tomorrow night in fact. She’s a lovely girl, our Gillian. A widow, classy,” she paused, “ lives in a vicarage, she expects the best and that’s just what I’m going to give her,” she added, and winked at him. “Here are her profile details. Study them, see what she likes and doesn’t like, her contact details are there too.” She handed the papers to him. “You can arrange a meeting yourself.”

  “Great, thanks.” He stared at the page. “It’ll good to get the first one under my belt, then if I do good, it should be plain sailing. How many women a week can you let me have?” Paul said without looking up.

  Trudy said nothing for a second or two, just glared at him and gritted her teeth.

  “Let’s see what the feedback is on this one first then we’ll see what we can do.”

  Deep, deep down, she secretly wanted him to refuse any other woman and swear undying fealty to her, but alas, it wasn’t to be. She moved on quickly.

  “I have another meeting quite soon,” Trudy said. “Take the profile and let me know how you get on and I’ll let Gillian know you’re going to contact her about tomorrow night.”

  With this, Paul left her office and walked down the narrow corridor. He thought he heard the sound of breaking glass. She’s dropped the glass, he thought briefly.