Heiress Whored 05

"What I would like to propose, Ash, is that you take on full-time this role of being a special escort. Elizabeth wants more of you, and I have to confess that I do. Elizabeth has always been a difficult client, but she is our gateway to Russian oligarchs, so we put up with her. But she has never, ever paid a bonus and asked for the same girl again."

"Thank you, Miss. You say you would 'like' to. What's the problem?"

"Your stepmother. She is one of our major shareholders, and she insists you are put to work."

"Am I not being put to work Miss Alisha? I whore myself out to those who pay to use me, I have no choice in the matter."

"That is the point, Ash, as a special VIP escort you would. Also, as I understand it, you are due to go to Yale in August, so that would get in the way of your working."

"On the last, Miss, I have some ideas, and on the first, well, isn't my stepmom coming over at the end of the week?"

"She is, but she was very firm about how you should be treated. She said you were in need of firm management because you were so suggestible. Could you raise it with her?"

I smiled and agreed to do so.

The more I thought about it, the better I liked it. Indeed, being a practically minded sort of girl, I had been wondering whether going to Yale might be a source of clients? There had to be plenty of yummy mummies there who would welcome a release from their cares with someone their daughter's age; and who better to do that than one of their classmates? They would not want to go with some lower-class tart, but what about an upper class one? Given the way the world was, all I needed was someone who could help me create a website offering "sugar girls for sugar mommies." There was a thought.

I texted my stepmother, Amber, saying that when she was in Paris, I'd love to have lunch with her as I needed her advice. She responded as I had thought she would, saying "of course, baby girl." "Baby girl", indeed, I smiled to myself.

One of the advantages of my line of work was that it paid well enough for me to have enough leisure time. So it was with surprise that Suzy, Alisha's PA, saw me in the office bright and early on Monday morning.

"Miss de Witt, how nice to see you. I was not expecting you. You are not in Miss Alisha's schedule today."

"That's because I wanted a word with you, Suzy."

"Me, Miss?"

"I have something to show you," I said, producing a pink dog collar from my Gucci bag. She went a similar colour at the sight of it.

"I see that you recognise it."

She stammered that she did.

"I am glad that your personal assistance is that personal, Suzy. Does she ever share you?"

"Share me, Miss de Witt?"

I gave her a look which effectively told her to stop messing me about.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, sorry Miss de Witt. Yes, sometimes."

"So, you are a good girl?"

"I try to be, Miss de Witt."

"Prove it. I want you to go to the rest room, remove your panties and bring them back to me - NOW!"

For a moment she seemed paralysed, but if my instinct was right, Suzy would have been conditioned to obey such commands.

"Yes, Miss de Witt, right away Miss. Will you hold the fort for a moment."

"I'll hold more than that, Suzy."

I watched her scuttle away.

I looked around the luxurious offices, just off the Boul' St Mich', and thought to myself how civilized all of this was. Yes, I could get used to this.

A few moments later, Suzy was back, looking a little more flustered than she had when I had arrived.

"Hand them to me."

Shyly, she handed me a black, lace thong.

"Good girl," I replied, sniffing them. "You liked that?"

"Yes, Miss Ashley."

"Good. Now two things, and you can have them back in time for lunch. I want to make an appointment to see our web designer; and I want to know where my stepmother will be staying."

"At once, Miss de Witt."

She phoned the IT department and made an appointment for me, and she gave me the address.

At that moment, Alisha came in.

"Ash, surprised to see you here at this time."

"Early birds, worms, all that." I smiled, handing her Suzy's panties. "Given them back at lunchtime."

"Yes, Miss," she whispered, as I went off to grab a coffee at a nearby bistro.

I went to see the IT people, but it was clear from the attitude of the Head, Sammy, that he had no time for me.

"If Alisha wants something, Miss de Witt, she usually asks me direct. So come back when she says so."

That put me in my place. But as I was going, a geeky looking young woman beckoned me over to her workstation. She was petite, dark-haired, with glasses, wearing a shortish denim skirt with a sweatshirt.

"Did I hear you wanted to talk about a site on our server?"

"You did, but your boss was pretty clear that he is not interested without express permission."

"Yeah, that's Sammy, fuckwit, like most of the men involved in this business. You're the talent, your job's to get fucked, who cares what you think?"

I gave her a look.

"Oh don't mind me, I'm Nicole, Nic for short, and I do the actual hard work. You're Miss de Witt, aren't you? If you're free at lunch, can we talk then."

"Sure," I said, somewhat taken aback by her vehemence. "Chez Louise across the way."

"At one? Sure, see ya there. Oh, and by the way, I thought Alisha looked good in that collar."

She was smiling knowingly, as well she might have done if, somehow, she knew about Alisha and the collar.

"Glad you thought so too," I replied coolly, not wanting to show that I had been caught by surprise.

As I had the morning free, I thought I'd improve the shining hour by taking a walk along the banks of the Seine.

It was Oscar Wilde who said, "good Americans go to Paris to die", (adding that bad Americans stayed in America), well as far as I was concerned, he could go screw himself - I had come to Paris and found life.

The Bouquinistes along the banks of the Seine, delighted me. I could spend, and was spending, hours looking at the books and pictures for sale. One could find anything. I got a cool appraisal from the man from whom I bought de Sade's "Justine" and "Juliette", in a job lot with "120 days of Sodom." Well, I reasoned, a girl ought to read up on what she's doing.

I found them both fascinating and repellent. That Justine, after being brutalised, seemed to strike up some ties of affection with her abusers, struck me as the sort of self-justifying crap a man with de Sade's tastes would resort to. But there was no escaping his influence on the way non-conventional sex was represented in literature and in modern porn. Was that the world we were imprisoned in? De Sade would have enjoyed that.

I collected my purchases and went to the bistro. Nic was already there, sipping some water.

"There's a menu there, Miss de Witt."

"Ash, please. Shall we order?"

We ordered a salad and some mineral water.

"What was it you wanted to talk with Sammy about, Ash?"

There was no beating about the bush with Nic, as I was to learn. So I told her my idea.

"That's doable, Ash. I think you'd need at least half a dozen of you to start. You'd want exclusivity, so charge a fee for joining. This would be for American women?"

"Anyone with a kid at Yale. I have a couple of friends who might be interested, and a feeling that there are plenty of Moms who would be?"

"Like your feeling Alisha would submit?"

"Just like that," I said, refusing to bat an eyelid. "I take it you saw all that on the hidden camera?"

It was Nic's turn to be surprised, and she was no match for me when it came to poker faces.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I have my sources," I said, not wanting to reveal that I was guessing.

"You know I'd never...."

"Never misuse knowledge you acquired by subterfuge. Why not?"

"I just like to keep an eye on her, she is pretty kinky, and there have been times I feared some harm might come to her. But you, well, you were amazing."

I grinned at Nic.

"Glad you thought so. But you are not telling me that you did not get off on what you were watching?"

It was her turn to grin:

"Would I lie to you by saying I didn't? Of course I did."

"And did you cum?"

A hit, a palpable hit! She blushed.

"Erm, well, yes."

"And with whom were you empathising, me or Alisha?"

Nic looked positively pretty when she blushed, her high cheekbones set off the pink glow.

"Erm, well, Alisha."

"I see," I grinned. "Have you ever done anything like that?"

"Goodness no! I have fantasised, watched vids, but no. It's not like a girl like me is going to pull one like you. Look at me, Miss Geek of the year any year."

"What if I said I quite like the geek chic look?"

Her eyes widened.

"Are, are you coming onto me? Don't be mean."

"I'm not being. But before we pursue that line, I have something to ask you."

"Ask away," she smiled rather sweetly, clearly still not believing I was coming onto her.

"My stepmom is staying at Alisha's for a long weekend. I take it you could capture what she does on your spyware?"

"I could, and for you, I would."

"Good girl," I purred at her. Now, whatever plans you had for tonight, cancel them. Come to my apartment at seven - oh, and bring a change of clothes."

Nic looked at me, goggle-eyed.

"Really?"

"Really."

We switched to less intimate topics for the rest of the lunch.

"Let me pay, Nic. Do you need the restroom before we go?"

"Yes, I'll be back in a moment."

"Good, take your panties off while you are there and give them to me when you get back. I think that skirt will just about preserve your modesty."

Nic looked stunned; but she nodded and said "yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Miss Ash," she added swiftly.

I spent the afternoon planning for Amber's arrival. I was going to get one chance at this. Nic's spying gear was my ace in the hole. I'd be able to watch and hear everything my stepmother did and said. It would be like playing poker knowing your opponent's hand. But she was a smart woman, and it would not do to underestimate her, so I worked out in some detail what I intended to do.

So engrossed was I in the work that when the bell rang, I had to look at the clock. It was seven, and that must be Nic. It was.

She looked slightly worried when I let her in.

"Wow, this is something else!" She declared, looking with envy at the penthouse I was renting.

"There are some pluses to being an heiress," I replied, pouring her a glass of wine, and telling her to make herself comfortable in the armchair by the window. That was a tactical move, At her height and its depth, there was no earthly way she could sit in it without revealing she was not wearing any panties.

"Erm, Miss, I, erm..." Her voice trailed off.

"You, erm, will be flashing your pussy. But think of it this way Nic, by the time you leave here, there will not be a part of you I am not familiar with. I ordered in, hope that suits you?"

"Yes Miss."

I switched to what I had been doing earlier and outlined the plan to Nic, who had a few interesting additions to make to it. She'd be an excellent collaborator.

"That sweatshirt could come off, couldn't it?"

"But, Miss, I'm, erm, not, erm, wearing a bra."

"Even better. Take it off."

Blushing furiously, she did.

Her breasts were cute, about the same size as mine at 30A. Her nipples were hard and dark pink.

The doorbell rang.

"Here's the money, and a tip, be a good girl and get the order."

She froze.

"Like this?"

"Like that," I said in a matter-of-fact way.

Nic took the money and went to the door. I watched.

The delivery boy's eyes almost popped out of his head, and as Nic handed the money over, he could not take his eyes from her tits. Then he saw me watching, and I think for a moment the poor boy thought all his erotic dreams were about to come true.

"Nic, come back here, it is nearly cunt munching time, leave the poor boy alone!"

He did not look cute when he blushed; but Nic made up for it.

"How was that?" I asked her when she brought the food into the kitchen.

"Really? Fucking hot! I've never done anything like that before."

Her face was flushed with excitement.

"Let me check?" I asked.

"Please, Miss Ashley, check my pussy."

From the way she said it I knew what I was going to find. I slid my hand under her skirt and cupped a very wet and swollen pussy. She moaned and pressed against my hand. As I slid two fingers into her wetness, I sucked on her left nipple. She crumpled onto me.

"Bed," I said. She nodded.

I unbuttoned her skirt and lay her back on the bed. I kissed her on the lips.

"I want you."

"Oh please, Ash, take me!"

I moved down her writhing body and took each of her nipples into my mouth in turn, pulling on them. Like me, she confirmed the cliché that those of us with small tits had sensitive nipples. I felt them swelling and hardening between my lips. Her hands were on my head, and she was moaning loudly.

I spent some time licking and sucking her breasts before my hand went down to feel her wetness. Parting her lips with my fingers, I felt her pushing onto me, and I slide in; she groaned and pressed harder.

As my fingers curled in, exploring her, I kissed downward to her mound, which was sparsely covered with thin hair. She was pressing onto me. My tongue caught her clit just as she impaled herself on my invading fingers and she gave a throaty moan. One of her hands was gripping the bedding, the other was playing her nipples.

The sensation of her pressing her pussy into my fingers was making me as wet as she was, but I was not sure what her experience was, and this had escalated far faster than I had imagined or intended; but she was hot and wanted me. I wanted her too.

I felt and heard her juices squelch as she pressed onto me. I licked and sucked her engorged clit. As my fingers went in and out faster, I could feel her body tense and I let nature take its course as she came long and hard. As she gripped my fingers, I felt my own wetness as I had a small squirt into my panties. I shuddered, as she spasmed.

With my fingers still in her, I slid up her body and kissed her lips.

"Oh fuck, Ash, what happened? I never, oh geez, you must think I am such a slut!"

"Silly girl, course I don't. I'm flattered that you like it that much."

"Oh goodness, yes, fuck yes, you'd had me so worked up across the day."

"And that," I said, kissing her lips more, "is why you came so fast."

"I didn't even need the kinky stuff," she giggled.

"Depends on whether answering the pizza delivery boy topless counts as kinky," I joked.

She laughed.

"But, as you know, there is plenty of kink to come."

"Please, Miss," she grinned.