Bev's New Career
By Slut Beverly
Being laid off from my office job at first was great, it was almost like a vacation. I slept in late every day, went to museums, afternoon matinee movies, all the things the 9 to 5'ers couldn't do. But when the unemployment ran out so did the good times. I soon found that my bank account was down to practically nothing and I need to find something if I want to keep eating. I was sick of being just a lowly secretary and wanted something different, something new an exciting. The news paper had tons of listings for medical and managerial careers but most call for college degrees, technical training, or years of experience. Those I skipped, all I have is a high school diploma, a pretty face and a good body not a great mind. Manufacturing, fast food, and bar and restaurant waitress, jobs also didn't make my list of prospects. Strippers and nude dancing were definitely out. I could never be naked before a room full of drunken fat old slobs wanting to stick mere one dollar bills down my panties. I was about to give up and search the office help section when I spotted it, an ad for female escorts. The idea of getting paid to go out on dates appealed to me. I applied but in the process I learned something new about myself. It was a real revelation to me and I would like to hear from other ladies out there who also enjoy what I learned about myself. I read the ad again. It offered flexible hours, I liked that part it meant that I could still sleep late in the mornings. It also stated they wanted escorts who could work with unusual clientele. I had dated a variety of men from a doctor to a dock worker and could converse with almost anyone. I was intrigued, yes this job sounded just what I was looking for. The office where I went for the interview was located in a grand, old house in what was once an older affluent sections of town. I filled out the application in a small, old-fashioned parlor that had been converted in an office of sorts, with an antique desk and furnishing. The place just reeked of old money and I'm sure that most of the stuff there was just like the structure, very old and expensive. I knew the receptionist was checking me out -- they wanted attractive girls. I didn't feel like I had anything to worry about. I'm in my early twenties, and I have a trim, tight figure. My legs are long, and my ass make a pair of jeans flare out perfectly. My firm breasts stand out over a lean and flat waist. My black hair although straight is cut into a shag that frames my face and sets off my hazel/green eyes. I keep my large lips painted a delicate light shade of pink. As soon as I finished the paper work, I was told to go upstairs to see Ms. Logan, the owner and manager. Her office was in one of the old bedrooms and I was a little surprised at it's sleek modern office furniture which was a stark contrast to everything I had seen. The woman sitting behind the glass topped desk looked me over as I walked in. She seemed to approve of my body. She was a tall handsome woman, in her late thirties, wearing a long black skirt and a gray man's blazer jacket. After talking to me and finding out how I felt about dating strangers, she got down to the real business. She explained that her business was strictly legal. She indicated that certain city officials and even big wig state political leaders had used her services on occasions. I knew the names of the people she spoke of. Things after that got a little more personal in nature. She stated that for certain very important clients she sometimes provided unusual service. Services that require unique talent and skills. She ask how I felt about stripping nude in front of people, and how I felt about being touched. She even asked if I minded dating women. I'm no prude so I answered her truthfully. I did not like being naked among large groups of individuals. That being touched was not a problem if I found that I was attracted to that person. And as to women, I told about my initiation to become a member of the cheerleading squad. It was my only experience with another female. I related how each new prospective member of the team was hazed. I told how every morning for a week I was required to report to the team captain before school so she could insert a miniature baton into my vagina. And how between classes this girl would make me kneel in a bathroom stall and kiss and lick her sex as I manipulated the little baton in and out of myself. Ms. Logan seemed pleased with my answers. But her next question caught me off-guard. "How do you feel about being spanked and disciplined?" she asked. "I don't know," was all I could honestly say. The last corporal punished I had undergone was when I was a child of eleven or twelve and my mother had spanked my bare butt for something. I had never been subject to much physical dicipline. Ms. Logan was again speaking. "That's our particular specialty," she was explaining. "We have a number of clients who enjoy paddling a nude girl. Several of them will want to tie you in place while administering spankings and such." Saying this her eyes traveled up my legs to where my butt was barely covered by a short denim mini skirt. Ms. Logan was making me feel naked with all these personal questions. I didn't even have a brasserie on under my bare midriff top, which make for kind of a ticklish situation. All these intimate questions were making my nipples hard. Then she hit me the clincher -- the fee I'd receive for being an employee of Elite Escorts. She made it clear that my services would include the type she had just describe. The amount she stated was huge! "For that kind of money," I told her, "I'd try just about anything." Leaning back she chucked, "They all say that but only a few are capable of actually doing it. Want to give it a try?" I guess I stammered a little, but I at last managed to say that I would like to. "That's good, but I'll have to test you first," she said pressing a buzzer on her desk. "We'll have to strip and spank you right here before we can send you out on a date. I can't possibly promise a client something that you can't or want deliver." A woman in a sequined evening dress walked in. She was large and muscular but strikingly good looking. She looked me up and down appraising me as everyone else had. Ms. Logan told her to take me to the attic and prepare me. "Put her through a few preliminaries," she told the woman. "If she does OK, put her in restraints and then ring my buzzer. I'll come up and do the actual spanking myself." She smiled at me she spoke. As I started to follow the woman in the evening gown out the door, not really sure of what I was getting into, Ms. Logan stopped me. "I'm going to use a leather switch on your ass," she warned. "Our clientele will do that. If you can't take it, say so now." I hesitated, but then thought of the money, I could make doing this kind of work. "I can handle it," I told her but not really sure if I could or not. The attic was unfinished, consisting of rough beams and plank flooring. There was an Oriental rug at one end, a few old dining room chairs assembled around it. The rest of the rather large room contained a clutter of old furniture and storage boxes. A very large Victorian oval window lit the entire area of the attic. "OK," the tall woman said when she closed the attic door behind us, "its just like I'm a client now. Do exactly what I tell you. Be a good girl, and you'll soon be making big bucks. When I said "OK," she cupped my chin in the palm of her hand and tilted my head back saying. "You must always show the client respect. Address me as Madam." She then ordered me to stand at the edge of the carpet and remove all my clothes. My tits bouncedttttt out of my top. I shook my hair back and pulled off my skirt, shoes, and pantyhose. I quickly slipped my panties off then stood nervously, not knowing what to do with my hands. This woman, who's name I didn't even know, solved the problem for me. She instructed me to lace my finger together behind my head and to spread my feet father apart. She them walked slowly around me, inspecting my body, making me feel doubly naked. While behind me said that I had a nice ass and ran one of her hands over it. "Nice and smooth," she cooed. "Not a blemish anywhere, really built for spanking too. You should mark easily." She then stood in front of me and gazed at my bare titties and the triangle of hair between my legs. I felt like I was an animal up for sale at an auction. "On your hands and knees," she ordered, in a crisp voice. I got down and suddenly had a strange feeling in my pussy. I was realizing what a bizarre thing I'd agreed to do. One part of me say that this was crazy, to run get out of there as fast as possible. Yet another part of me said what I was doing made sense. This was something new and exciting and oddly enjoyable so far. Besides it was only a simple spanking, surely I as an adult could block out pain and could come through his with no problem. "Crawl out to the middle of the rug, slave girl," the woman was now commanding. "Yes, Madam," I replied meekly and shimmied to the center of the carpet on my hands and knees. I knew my ass was wiggling as I made my way to where she ordered. I was made to kneel with my buttocks resting on my heels, my arms at my side, palms up. Standing over me with arms folded she ask if I was ready to be tied. Looking up at the towering figure above me, I nodded my head up and down. In a small trembling voice I managed to say. "Yes please, Madam." "Excellent response. Up on you feet now, and follow me," she said almost gaily. I was made to kneel in front of a large wooden support bean, my knees spread around the post. Two heavy eye-bolts were embedded on each side just above eye level. Quickly my right wrist was fasten to the hook on the right with sturdy cord. As she pulled my left arm up, I realized this was my last chance to back out. Once both hands were secured there would be no escape. Could I endure this whipping? I had to know!! I didn't back out. Suddenly, it was done, and this elegantly dress woman was pressing a buzzer for Ms. Logan to come up. I'd actually done it! I was stripped down to the nude, tied to a post, and waiting for someone to whip my bare ass! I wondered if I was crazy, but a pounding throb in my pussy told me that something was definitely going on down there. My clit was tingling and itching with excitement and beginning to emerge from it's protective hood. I was hot, sexually arouse at what was happening. Ms. Logan entered the dusty attic. She held a long, thin, leather switch in one hand. She dismissed Miss evening gown and walked toward me, a grim expression on her face. "OK, little naked girl," she said, "let's get to work on that pretty butt of yours shall we!" She was now standing directly behind me. I hear the swish of the switch and flinch, but felt no pain. Looking back over my shoulder I saw her swinging the switch limbering up her arm. She smiled at me and ask. "If you wish to stop this my dear, just say so?" Unable to speak I shook my head no. She let the leather switch whirl down and strike my naked buttocks. My hands wrenched against their bindings. I screeched out as a second lighting bolt seared across both cheeks of my ass. The pain was shocking but what amazed me was happening inside me. My cunt was starting to leak it's honey. Ms. Logan was now kneeling next to me turning my face toward hers. "Should I gag you?" she ask. With tears beginning to fill my eyes I quickly shook my head no. Standing, she started again, the whack falling one after another. She switched my bottom unmercifully. My ass was wiggling and squirming around trying to avoid the stinging lashes. Looking back I could see the she was delighted at my predicament. She truly seemed to enjoy swinging that switch. I was now arching upward in my bindings, thrusting out my bare breasts against the rough surface of the post before me. Incredible my nipples were even harder and more prominent. I was so turned on I was actually squeezing my legs and thighs around the beam as if it were a lover. Suddenly stopping Ms. Logan ask me, "Like it." "How much do I have to take?" I sobbed out. "Until you learn to enjoy it -- love it!' she chuckled. "This is what you're going to do for money, you little tramp. You're going to be whipped like the whore that you really are." Her nasty words just heated up my pussy faster. If I was made to act whorish there was noting I could do about it. And besides, that's the way I was supposed to act if I accepted this job. "Whip me, Ms. Logan," I told her. "Whip me like a tramp. I deserve it." I didn't believe what I was saying, but I knew I liked it. The magical feeling in my twat were spreading to the rest of my body. The lashes were beginning to feeling more like caresses. It hurt, but I also felt really great have this woman controlling me; telling me I was a wanton slut. I glanced back I could see that she too like what I was saying. I'd never felt so naked in my life. Ms. Logan used her switch all over my unprotected flesh. She flicked my thighs and breasts, but always came back to my naked buttocks. "I can find lots of customers for a gutter slut like you," she told me, as she continued to whip me. "My customers love whores like you -- whores who enjoy their work. Beg for more, you naked little tramp." I did beg. I told her how much I wanted to peddle my body to all her clients who wanted to whip and beat me. I told her how much I wanted to strip naked for money and how I wanted to be use. I begged her for the switch saying I deserve it. The more she whipped the more aroused I became. Suddenly the lashes stopped, she announced she was going to leave me alone to think and that she would return later to release me. I couldn't take it; I was so aroused that I had to have some relief. I had to have something more. I would surely go mad if I didn't achieve a climax. "No, pleaseeee," I moaned, "don't leave me. Whip my pussy! Finger me if you wish. Do anything you want, but please do something!" I sobbed out. Grinning she released me from the post and instructed me to lie on my back with my arms and legs stretch out. Going to a cupboard in the corner of the attic, she returned with silver police hand cuffs and long stick with black cuffs on each end, and a small cardboard box. Cuffing my hand together she place them behind my head telling me to keep them there. The stick was buckled to my knees, it prevented me from closing my things. Opening the box she showed me a little strap about 1/2 inches wide and about 12 inches long. Kneeling between my outstretched legs, she tapped each of my erect nipples with the little strap saying. "You love the pain, don't you my little naked whore?" I couldn't believe what she was saying or how I had become such a depraved slut. But I heard myself babbling. "YES, YES! I LOVE THE PAIN! Pleasseee, WHIP ME! I NEED TO CUM!" She then really gave it to my bare, wet pussy, whipping the seam of my sex until it was red and stinging. As I trashed around on the floor she kept tell me what a slut I was. Every time I head the word, 'SLUT' the strap would connect with my open twat. Juices were freely flowing from my hole and my clitty was throbbing ready to explode. My eyes closed as the pain and pleasure merged, my heels digging into the floor as I lifted my cunt to receive the lashes. Suddenly it stopped and I was so close to getting off. I looked up to see Ms. Logan strapping on a dildo over her clothes! RELIEF! She was going to fuck me! "YES! YES! PLEAASE FUCK ME!" I panted with need. She reached down a spread my already slick and swollen slit even wider. Running the head of the dildo up and down my wet gash she oiled the head of the fake prick. She held it there just inside my hole. Leaning down she head my head between her hands and starred into my eyes. As her lips met mine in a passionate kiss her hips slammed forward, driving the dildo to my very core. I opened my mouth accepting her tongue as the hard rubber slipped effortlessly into my aching pussy. I was finally getting my release. I drifted off into a world of my own as my cunt began clutching and spasming around the rubber phallus. It was enough to trigger the most intense orgasm I had every experienced. I was pounding my naked buttock up and down for dear life being fucked by a woman. It was incredible the orgasm flow out from my pussy to engulf my whole being. I went rigid with pleasure just as everything when black. I must've blackout from the shear pleasure of cumming, because the next thing I knew Ms. Logan was setting on the floor with my head in her lap. She was asking me repeatedly if I was 'OK'. I struggled unsteadily to sit up. I was no longer restrained and my sex dripping and burning with pain but as strange as it may sound it was an enjoyable satisfying kind of hurting. She hugged me saying, "You were out so long, darling. I assume it must have been a fantastic cum." Still somewhat delirious in my after-glow I return her embrace muttering, "It was the best!" then over and over, "Thank you, thank you for allowing me to Cum!." We just sat there gently hold each other until I recovered enough to ask. "Do I get the job?" Laughing she replied, "Of course it's yours you little slut. With a little training you're going to be my star employee. Now get dressed and report back here at 6 PM, you're going to learn about some other perversions. I have clients who pay even more other kinks. You're going to learn them all slut!" I did return, in fact I moved in the next day. When not out working I am constantly being trained by Ms. Logan to please new customers both male and female. I still can't believe I doing what I am doing. Ms. Logan will be up soon and I have to prepare her bath, so I'll close this out for now. Next time I'll introduce you to my co-workers, there are seven of us now. Myself and two other now living here with Ms. Logan. Two of the girls Maurie and Shannon are devote lesbians and only date women clients. Two are married and work to supplement there household budgets. Their husbands think they're out selling Mary Kay Cosmetics and Tubberware. Tammy one the married ones even has her husband Mitchel babysit their kids while is out pleasing Elite Escort clientele. Like I say next time I'll tell you a little about each of us and bit about the training that we undergo down in the basement of this beautiful old house. Or perhaps I can relate one or two of the more unusual request that clients have made of me.