Gromet's PlazaErotic Stories


by Wiccedwoman

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© Copyright 2007 - Wiccedwoman - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; stocks; costumes; cons; X

Dave lifted her pinstriped dress and white starched apron, his hand reaching for the elastic of her knickers.  This was 1975, and nurses still wore time-honoured attire.  It was the stuff of medical fantasies and Benny Hill skits. Lying on her bed, Kay sighed and studied the ceiling.  She noticed some peeling paint, nothing unusual.  The Victorian nurses home was chronically shabby.

“Dave, not now.  I’ve got to be on shift soon.”  It was an excuse.  She didn’t fancy him, or what he was offering.  He bored the shit out of her.

“C’mon Kay.  Just a quickie.”

She felt him try to slip them off.  “Fuck off Dave.  Leave me alone!”  Her vehemence surprised her.

“God you’re a cow!”

“Yeah.  I’m a cow, and anything else you feel like calling me.  I don’t want to do this.  I don’t feel like it.”  She watched his brow knit as he took in her words, and then he sat up, before silently reaching for his tobacco tin and rolling a cigarette.  “Dave, things aren’t working out between us . . .”

“Really?  Maybe that’s because you’re too busy eyeing up the doctors.  I’m not good enough for you now.”

Kay sighed in frustration.  She’d known Dave three years, since she was eighteen.  Now she was a student nurse, half way through her training.  He couldn’t take her new career, or more to the point, he couldn’t take her new friends.  “Dave, I’m sick of carrying the load.  You’ve not worked in months, and the payments on your motorbike aren’t my job.  How come I’m the only one who worries about them? You’re six years older than me.  It’s not supposed to be like this.”

“That’s all you care about isn’t it? Money?”

“Well you obviously don’t give a damn, and you’re more than happy to use mine.  I’m fed up with searching for pennies down the side of the bed at the end of the month.”  After that, she didn’t remember much, only flashes of a screaming row that ended when he roared off on his Norton 850, courtesy of her keeping the finance company happy.


“Among others, you’re looking after a Mr. Smith, aged 42, in bed 10, one of the private rooms.  He had an appendectomy yesterday evening.  He didn’t want a bed bath this morning.  See what you can do with him this afternoon.  You can read through his notes; it’s all here.  Keep a close on eye on his drip, and make sure he’s passed urine by 8 PM.”

Kay saw the ward sister peer at her over her steel rimmed specs as she finished her instructions; the old bat always made her feel nervous, as well as giving her the shittiest patients.  Mr. Smith was officially hers; he must be gross.  A few minutes later, she looked round his door.  All she saw was the outline of his back and shoulders beneath the counterpane. 

“Mr. Smith?” 

He stirred slightly. 

“Mr. Smith?”  He stirred again, before very slowly lifting his head and turning in her direction.  Maybe it was imagination, but for a second, she thought he was going to growl at her.  He didn’t though, he smiled.

“Aaahhh, sweetheart.  What a pleasant sight.  The nurse this morning was a wretched creature.  Wanted me to do the impossible.  No consideration, and damn ugly.  I can see you’re much nicer.  A friendly, beautiful face.”

Kay frowned.  “Mr. Smith, she was only trying to do her job – and looks don’t have anything to do with it.”  She saw him smile again.

“Oh but they do, specially when I have the honour of being looked after by such an attractive young lady as you.”

She could see why she had this one.  He’d obviously caused hell this morning.  Despite that, she felt herself warm to him.  Dave never complimented her, and Mr. Smith’s flattery filled a hungry spot. 

“Well then, maybe you’ll keep me out of trouble with the dragon by letting me give you a wash, and generally doing as you’re told?”  She thought she saw his eyes widen, and his tongue flick over his lips.

“A wash?  You mean a bed bath?  You know, I didn’t feel like one earlier, but I think I’m up to it now. And call me Michael, please.”

She looked at him more closely.  He seemed younger than forty-two, and had a pleasant face.  He wasn’t bad looking, in a ruffled kind of way. 

“OK then Michael, let’s get on with it.”  She filled a metal bowl with warm water, and then got everything else she needed, before cranking up the head of the bed and helping him sit up.  She handed him a soapy flannel.  “Here, do your front.”  He stared at her with mock indignation.

“You mean I’ve got to wash myself?  You’re not going to do it?  What’s the National Health Service coming to?  What do they teach you now?”

Kay felt herself blush.  “You’re a grown man.  You can um . . . wash your own private bits.  I’ll do your back, and any other parts you can’t reach.”  She thought she noticed a wriggle of delight when she bathed his arse, but she let it go by.  By the end of the procedure, he looked shiny and new in clean sheets, and in clearly expensive and just pressed PJ’s.  She noticed the portcullis symbol of the House of Commons embroidered on one pocket.  “Where did you get those pyjamas from?  They’re pretty fancy.”  She saw him grin.

“Well, a Member of Parliament has certain standards to maintain.”

“Oh” Kay was surprised, “you mean you’re an MP?”

“Yes, that’s right.  Got caught off guard yesterday.  I was in the Commons bar, and suddenly thought I was dying.  The pain was bloody awful, so they rushed me round the corner to this dump.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “Well if it’s a dump, it’s up to you to do something about it – isn’t it?”

“Should you be talking your patients like that, especially one as important as me?”

She could see he was teasing, and she enjoyed the banter.  “Maybe, and maybe I should tell you to vote for decent pay for nurses while I’m at it, before we all starve.”

“I’ll buy you dinner, will that do?”

The big twinkle in his eye was hard to miss, but this was a step too far  “I don’t fraternise with my patients . . .”

“Fraternise, now that’s a good word.  Sounds interesting.  Would you fraternise with me if we met in different circumstances?”

Kay pursed her lips and crossed her arms, despite the appeal – or maybe because of it.  “This conversation is at end.  The only thing you should be concentrating on is getting better.  Ring the bell if you need anything.  I finish at nine, and I’ll be popping in and out until then.” And with a swish of a starched skirt, she was gone.


The walk to the nurses home only took a few minutes.  She unlocked her room, flicked on the light and then noticed a small note on the carpet.  Someone had pushed it under her door.  She read it, ‘Call me when you finish your shift.  I’m sorry.  Love Dave.’  Bugger it; she couldn’t be bothered.  She was tired.

The next couple of weeks passed routinely.  She let Dave make love to her a couple of times; it was passionless.  He was a familiar warm body, that’s all.  She knew she needed to make changes; finding the time or energy was the problem.

It had been a day like any other, until she knocked off the morning shift.  She was walking past the home wardens office to her room, when someone called her name.

“Kay, there’s something here for you.  Can you come and collect it?”

She was puzzled.  She had no idea what it could be.  “Oh my God!” she clamped a hand to her mouth, “who an earth sent me these? It must be a mistake.”

“Well, it’s no mistake.  They’re for you.  They’ve stood here in water all morning.”

Kay gazed at the huge bunch of blood red roses in disbelief, and then read the card.  The House of Commons symbol gilded the front, ‘From Michael, a very bad patient, to my ministering angel.’  She looked up at the middle-aged woman who’d handed her the blooms, “Thanks – and thanks for keeping them for me.”  She hurried to her cubbyhole, and clicked the lock behind her.  No one saw the smile on her face.

She quickly arranged the flowers in a vase and admired them briefly, but it had been a busy morning, and she hadn’t slept well the night before.  Tiredness soon made her lie down and drift off.  As hard as she tried, getting up at dawn really wasn’t her thing.  Eventually, the sound of a phone ringing disturbed her, but she ignored it.  The extension was in the corridor outside; it probably wasn’t for her.

“Kay – Kay, there’s a call for you.”

It was the voice of her neighbour.  Damn, she was too weary to move, but she did anyway.  “Thanks, I’ll be there in a minute.”  Opening her door, she sleepily wandered out.  “Hullo?”

“Hullo.  Is that Kay?”

She didn’t recognise the voice.  “Yes, who’s that?”

“It’s Michael, your very bad patient.  Did you get the roses?”

When the penny dropped, she was startled he’d called.  “Yes I did, thankyou.  You shouldn’t have done that you know.  It wasn’t necessary.  They’re beautiful.”

“No more beautiful than you.”

His words were charming; she remembered the warmth and attraction, but she still felt awkward.  “How did you know where to find me?”

“Aaahhh, well – yes, perhaps I should explain.  Let’s just say that when I set my mind to something, there’s very little I can’t do.”

“Well, you still shouldn’t have done it . . .” He interrupted her.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

This put her in a quandary. Dave was coming over later, not that his visit was a dazzling prospect.  “Well, I don’t know . . .”

“Have you been to the Savoy?  It’s first class service, I’d love to take you.”

“The Savoy? You’re kidding?”

“No I’m not, I never kid.  Come on.  Take risk.”   

“I don’t know, I really shouldn’t . . .”


Maybe there was devil on her shoulder when she made the rash decision.  “Yeah, OK then – I’ll will.”  She heard the happiness in Michael’s voice.

“I’ll get my driver to pick you up at six thirty?”

“Yeah, that sounds fine.  What’ll I wear?” God, was she really saying this . . . ?

“You’d be stunning in anything.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but that’s not the point.  I’ve never been to the Savoy before.”  She fidgeted on the end of the line.

“Well, if you insist.  Maybe just a little black dress, something simple and classy.”

“Classy.  OK, I get it.  I’ll go simple and classy.  See you later.”

“I look forward to it.  Take care Kay.”

She put the receiver down, and her heart began to race.  She didn’t have a little black dress.  Chronic poverty, and a lacklustre boyfriend who spent all her dough, left nothing spare for fancy clothes.  She knocked on her friend’s door, and was relieved when she answered.  “Jen, do you have black dress I can borrow?”  Jen looked at her through narrowed eyes.

“I might have.  Where are you off to then?”

“The Savoy.”  Kay watched her mate’s mouth drop.

“What, has Dave come into money?”

“I’m not going with Dave . . .” Kay watched a grin spread across her confidante’s face.

Oh, I see. It’s about time you dumped him.  Let’s search my cupboard then . . .”  

Kay was pleased with her borrowed gear, a tiny black outfit that followed her hourglass curves, and a low cut neck that showed off her breasts. She twirled in front of the mirror.  Her diamond stud earrings and fine gold necklace added just the right touch.  Of course, they were fake.  She spent a good forty minutes applying her make up, smoky eyeliner, mascara, a wispy film of foundation, a hint of blusher and crimson lips.  She felt good when she added the final touch, a few dabs of perfume.  Then she thought about Dave.  Damn.  She headed to the public phone at the end of the hall. 

“Dave? Look, I’m not feeling well.  I’m getting an early night.  Don’t bother coming over, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Bye.” She slammed down the handset with relief.

At six thirty, she went outside.  It looked like Michael’s car was already there, a sleek grey Jag.  A smart suited man leant against the bonnet.  He was a big guy, solid and hard looking.  “Is this Mr. Smith’s car?” she asked a bit nervously.

“Yes madam.  I take it you’re Kay McPherson?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Allow me.”

He opened the back passenger door with a flourish and motioned her inside. 

At once, she smelt the polished leather.  Everything was perfect and expensive, very different from a noisy British motorbike. Michael’s driver chauffeured her through the streets of London like a princess and soon, they swept up to the foyer of the famous Savoy.  Michael was there to greet her.

“Hullo sweetheart.  You look stunning, quite gorgeous.  I’m humbled you let me take you to dinner.”

Kay gave Michael credit; he knew how to treat a lady.  The meal was wonderful, the surroundings opulent and her host completely attentive.  She also adored his wickedly irreverent and self-deprecating humour; it drew her like a sunflower to the light.  The greyness in her life had crept up slowly; she’d barely noticed until now.  And then as she sipped the after dinner coffee, he stared at her, slowly tracing the rim of his glass with a finger.

“I keep a small flat just round the corner from Parliament.  Come back for a nightcap with me?” he asked.

“A nightcap? Is that all?”

“Depends.  You’ll have to keep me in check.”

The sparkle in his eyes was impossible to miss.  “I can do that . . .” she said, smiling.  Though the devil on her shoulder probably had other ideas.

The Victorian terraced house was imposing, obviously a wealthy address.  Michael undid the black gloss front door – and then showed her to the lift.  It silently glided to the fourth floor, and then standing aside, he ushered her out.  When he unlocked his apartment, the neatness and expensive style struck her at once.  All antique wood, leather upholstery, thick carpets and heavy curtains.

“Want a drink? What’ll you have?” he asked.

“What have you got?”

“Take your pick.”

He opened a well-stocked cabinet.  Kay chose a shot of vodka, sweetened with lime.  Michael just had whisky on the rocks.  She curled in one corner of the sofa; he stretched in the other, ankles crossed.  She felt butterflies when he looked at her keenly, over the edge of his malt.

“Stay with me tonight?”

She gulped.  Dave was her first lover; she needed to enlarge her horizons.  She made a sudden decision. “OK, I will,” and then she deliberately caught his gaze, “I’ve not done this before . . .”

“Well then princess, it’s about time you did.”

He held out his hand, and she took it. The warmth and firmness steadied her jangling nerves.  In the bedroom, he treated her like a Goddess.  She shivered when his mouth trailed down her neck, before he devoured one nipple.  A hand played with her other breast.

“I love your tits,” he said, between mouthfuls of flesh.

Michael had turned her on for once; Dave was nothing like this.  His lips continued to wander down her body, paying special attention to her navel, and the small stretch of tummy beneath. Then his warm breathe hovered over pussy.  Kay arched towards him.

“Don’t be impatient Kay,” he said softly, “we’ve got all night . . .”

She turned one cheek to the pillow and groaned gently.  She couldn’t help arching towards him again.  He rewarded her with the touch of his tongue on her bud.  The hot wetness played mercilessly with that vulnerable spot, and then she felt two fingers tenderly slip inside.  They were tentative and reverent, like Michael was in awe of her.  He whispered again.

“I’m going to make you come, I want to feel it and see it.”

She made another faint sound of approval, and then unthinkingly wiped a hand across her brow, brushing stray hair from her eyes.  It was damp with sweat.  He was controlling her perfectly, gradually turning up the heat.  Each time she squirmed and moaned, his mouth and hands pushed her further.  Finally, she became a writhing whore, desperate to keep this man between her legs.  Her thighs started to tremble, and when he gently carried on lapping at her most responsive part, she came quickly in huge shudders of pleasure.  When they subsided, she saw him look up and grin.

“You’re fantastic Kay, a dirty little tart beneath that starched apron – and I just love dirty little tarts . . .”

Before she could reply to his teasing, he was on top of her.  She felt his cock push inside.

“Christ, you’ve got a tight little pussy . . .”

His hands slipped under her bum and pulled her closer, before gripping her tight.  It must have been too much for him, because he didn’t last long; he orgasmed hard, and quickly, staying there until his breathing steadied.  When he finally rolled off, she could see he was soaking.

“Jesus Kay, you’re too sexy.  I never come that fast.  What did you do to me?”

She looked across at him and nipped her lower lip.  “I didn’t do anything Michael, you just turned me on very badly.”

“Aaahh yes, you did seem to enjoy it.  Not like my wife.”

Kay took a breath.  She already knew he was married, but she’d avoided the subject.  This was just fun, a crazy experiment. 

“Let’s not talk about her.”

“That’s fine with me.”

He kissed her briefly, on the lips.

“Kay, it’s been a long day – mind if I go to sleep?”

“No, I’m tired too.” It didn’t take long for her to float off, and she had no idea how long she’d been dozing when some wild man dragged her back to shore.

“Kneel up.  That’s right, now spread your thighs.”

Next thing, Kay felt the wild man’s cock inside her.  The angle was deep, and Tarzan’s erection was bursting.  “Owww!” she complained.

“Shut up!” he snapped, followed by, “I don’t think I’m going to last long . . .”

It was prophetic.  Michael soon ejaculated with loud groans of satisfaction. 

“Sorry babe, couldn’t help it.  I often wake in the early hours and can’t get back to sleep.  Then I saw you lying there and gave into temptation . . .”

Kay glanced at the green numerals by the bed.  It had just gone four AM.  She sighed in resignation.  “Well, I don’t like you telling me to shut up, but as quickies go that wasn’t bad.”  He kissed her forehead.

“Sorry sweetheart.  Didn’t mean it.  I think you’ve brought out the caveman in me.”

“Maybe.” She smiled as she rested one arm across his hairy chest.  Her slightly sore pussy throbbed a bit.  She liked the feeling, as well as his slight mustiness.  The scent of sex clung to him like pricey cologne.  It was still dark though, and it wasn’t long before the sandman claimed her again.


He kissed her cheek, it woke her and she groggily looked up.  In the creeping daylight, she saw him smiling down, and then noticed his suit and shirt. “Michael, you’re dressed already? Give me a moment, I’ll get up . . .”

“No, stay there.  You could do with the rest.  I’ve got to get going though, some important appointments.  There’s food in the fridge, make yourself breakfast.  There’s someone I want you to meet, Cindy my personal assistant.  She’ll be here at eleven, if that’s OK?  I’ve given her instructions to take you shopping, no expense spared.  She knows where to go.”

“I couldn’t, really I couldn’t – and besides, I start work at one thirty.”  Kay was struggling to come round and get back in control.

“Bugger it.  Call in sick.  I want to treat you.”

His firmness surprised her, and the idea of missing an afternoon of bedpans and drips for a troll round the stores wasn’t unpleasant.  “Are you sure?”


“OK, you’ve converted me.” She saw him grin.

“Good.  Now relax, it’s still early.  See you later.”

He gave her one last passionate kiss on the mouth, before he disappeared through the bedroom door.  She looked round, wide awake now.  Hell, what was she doing? But the thought vanished fast; quite honestly, she didn’t care.  She was along for the ride, there’d be consequences, but she’d worry about them later.


She’d just drained her mug when she jumped at the sound of the front door opening.  Next, she was staring into the face of a stranger.  The beautiful woman smiled.

“I take it you’re Kay?”

“Yes, and you’re Cindy, Michael’s assistance?” Said Kay, a little uncertainly.  She saw the mannequin’s eyes sparkle.

“Yes dear, I’m the little darling’s general dogsbody.”

Kay quickly warmed to her easy tone.  There was a friendly wit under the perfect exterior. “Well, I hope he pays enough for the privilege.”

“Oh but he does.”

The woman flashed gold rings and immaculate nails.  They both giggled, and then Kay asked a question,  “How come? I thought all public servants lived on slave wages?” 

“Some slaves provide indispensable services, if you know what I mean.” Cindy raised her eyebrows.

“What? You and Michael?” Kay was dismayed, but wanted to know more.

“No, absolutely not.  Nothing like that.  He’s not my type, but I keep his private life in order – and keep his friends happy as well.  That’s the key to influence you know, friends in high places – people who rely on you to keep their secrets and take care of their needs.”

“Oh . . .”  Kay wasn’t sure what Cindy meant, but she didn’t want to look stupid.  “Right, I see.”  She noticed the woman’s conspiratorial look.

“Come on then darling, I’ve got orders to kit you out.  Only the best you know, seems Michael’s smitten.  What did you do to him?”

Kay sighed.  “Nothing special.  I’m a student nurse; we met when he had that emergency op. He’d been a bit difficult, but he let me do what was needed – in fact, he was a flirt. He seems a nice guy though, not stuck up, really friendly.”

“Aaahhh, that’s it then.  Michael just loves pretty young girls in uniform . . . Looks like you pushed all the right buttons. And as for his charm, it’s real enough.  His humble warmth has got him a long way, but don’t let it fool you.  He’s got the instincts of a cobra when it suits.  Couldn’t survive in politics without it.”

“Oh, I see . . .” Kay pensively replied, not knowing what to say. 

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind.  A high-priced lunch came first, and then some exclusive boutiques, select jewellers, shamefully expensive perfume, a private beauty spa and finally, a lingerie shop where small scraps of fabric cost a fortune.  It was 7 PM by the time Kay sat down with Cindy for a drink in a chic wine bar.

“What do you suppose Michael’s doing now?” asked Kay, “we’ve spent heaps of money.”

“Oh don’t worry about that darling, there’s plenty more where that came from.  And right now, he could be anywhere.  He told me to tell you he’d be in touch tomorrow.  Come on, let’s get pissed.  Paul, Michael’s driver, will pick us up later.  I’ll give him a call when we’re ready.”

It was touching on midnight when Paul drove up to the lobby of the nurse’s home with a rather merry Kay in the back.  He opened the passenger door, and she wobbled out.  He gallantly caught her arm.

“Careful there miss.  Watch your step.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a warm smile, not noticing the thunderous Dave, her boyfriend, leaning on the wall.  She was shocked when she heard him.

“Where the fuck have you been!” he yelled, “and who’s this? Your bit on the side?”

He roughly grabbed her elbow, and then all Kay heard was a pathetic yelp.  Next thing, she saw him with his nose pressed to the ground, Paul’s foot on his neck.  On the way home she’d chatted easily with Michael’s driver, apparently he was ex-SAS. 

“Listen here sunshine, the lady doesn’t want to be bothered.  Now fuck off, before I break your arm.”

Kay heard another cry of agony, before Paul let her lover go.  The next sound she remembered was the roar of an engine, as a rowdy British motorbike disappeared into the night.


The next morning Kay woke with a sore head and dry mouth.  Thank God it was a day off.  Slipping on a robe, she wandered out to the communal kitchen to put the kettle on.  The power point in her room was only good for radios and the like.  Bumping into some friends, she chatted a bit; by the time she got back to her room, there was a note on her door, ‘Phone Michael on his private number ASAP.’  Obviously, she’d missed his call and some kind soul had taken a message.  She groaned, thinking about Dave her boyfriend.  It was definitely finished, but after three years together, she couldn’t leave it at that.  After some water and a cup of coffee, she felt better and headed down the hall to the callbox.  Her heart was pounding and her palms were clammy as she lifted the receiver.  Her hands shook when she dialled the number.

“Can I speak to Dave?” He lived with his widowed mother, she heard her call him.

“David, it’s Kay.”

She waited nervously.

“Yes?” he said at last.

“Dave, it’s over between us, but I wanted to talk after what happened last night.  I’m sorry, it wasn’t my fault, but that doesn’t change anything.  I don’t want to see you any more.”

He begged, and whined, and then screamed in anger, but Kay was unmoved even when he threatened suicide.  Calmly hanging up in the middle of his rant felt good.  She’d done the right thing; she’d been straight.  It was his problem now, and then she quickly lifted the phone again and called Michael.

“Hullo” he answered.

“I got your message.”

“Kay? Good to hear you.  Can I take you to lunch?”

She hadn’t made any plans, and she loved his company. She decided to travel with the tide.  “Yes, that’ll be fine.  What time?”

“I’ll get Paul to pick you up at twelve?”

“Don’t you ever drive yourself?”  It was Kay’s nature to test assumptions.

“Why, would you like me to?”


“Fine.  See you at twelve then.”

Kay smiled as she walked back to her room.


The restaurant was classy, and Michael was as courteous as ever.  His wit still made her giggle.  She felt her pulse increase when he gave her that look again, at the end of their meal.

“Come back with me Kay?”

“What’s the problem? Are all your other mistresses out of town?” she teased.

“Don’t say things like that.  It’s not true.”

“Really?” She stared at him thoughtfully.

“Really.  Come back with me, please?”


This time, Michael took her to a different part of the Victorian terrace, a basement apartment.

“What are we doing here? What’s this place?”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, it’s my other flat.  Let’s just say it’s my playground.”

The door swung open, and she peered into the darkness.  Michael clicked the lock behind them, and then flipped a switch.  The crimson glow barely lit the hall, but even so, it was plain the address was expensively furbished.   He led her to the large main room, and Kay drew a breath.  You couldn’t call it a ‘lounge,’ it looked more like a gothic torture chamber.  Black shutters on the windows blocked the sun, and red lamps made eerie shadows.  

“What’s this? And what’s these?”

“Don’t worry, they’re only my toys.  I wouldn’t hurt you, ever.”

Kay wandered around the equipment, curious. There were stocks, chains on the wall, various implements in a glass cabinet, lots of cupboards and wooden horse that should have been in a school gym.  A wrought iron bed sat in one corner.  Kay touched the stocks in fascination, “Where did you get this piece from?”

“An auction.  It’s my favourite, would you like to try it?”

She laughed. “You’re kidding?” and then she caught the serious look in his eyes.

“No” he whispered, “I’m not.”

She saw him suddenly open a closet and pull out a nurse’s uniform, some large frilly knickers, stockings and a matching suspender belt.

“Put these on for me?”

“And then what?”

“And then you can try my pet toy while I fuck you.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Please Kay.  I’ll make sure you enjoy it, I promise.”

His face was pleading, and she noticed a large erection inside his trousers.  Remembering the intensity of their last session, she decided to push her boundaries.  “OK.” She felt his eyes burn into her as she changed, and then she noticed something different about the panties, “They’ve got a slit in the crotch.”   

“Yes” he said, and grinned.

She shivered when he padlocked her into place, left wrist, neck, right wrist.  She’d never felt so vulnerable.  He kneaded her breasts through the outfit.

“Well my little nursey, who’s in charge now? Maybe I’ll be a very naughty boy and undo your buttons so I can play with your nipples.”

He did; she felt a hand slide under her bra and squeeze.

“You’ve got great tits,” he murmured.

Kay loved the sensation, and then his groin casually brushed her arse.  He was still dressed, but his arousal was obvious.  After that, holding her hips tight, he deliberately rubbed against her.

“Oh God, I have to stop, or I’ll come in my trousers. Spread your legs, now.”

Kay followed the instruction, and felt a hand creep between her thighs. Two fingers pushed through the gash in her undies.

“You’re a horny little bitch aren’t you? You’re very wet.”

Kay didn’t answer, just took a deep breath and wriggled.

“I’m going to make you come, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.  I want to see your lovely behind tremble.”

Michael was very skilled; he played with her bud and the flesh around it like a master.  He obviously enjoyed the building heat, and his power.

Kay moaned loudly when she orgasmed, it was like a slow motion explosion – and she couldn’t help the earthy tremors below her waist when she lost it.  Then she felt Michael start to fuck her; he didn’t even take off his pants.  He just pulled his cock through his open fly, edgy with lust. 

“Shit!” he yelled.

He pushed even harder when he spurted, and then clung on tightly until every drop was spent. 

“Looks like I’ve done it again.  You’re a very bad girl, turning me on like that.” He was panting as he said it.


The next few weeks passed in a dream.  Kay’s wardrobe expanded, along with her bank balance.  Michael was very generous; no mistress of his would live in penury.  She found it harder and harder to turn up for duty, holding vomit bowls and wiping bums just didn’t match being with him.  In fact, she wondered why she bothered, looking at her pay.  Nursing was a last choice anyway.  She loved history and English at school, and dreamt of being an archaeologist, journalist or writer; she just couldn’t afford it.  But when her new lover begged her to move in and be his kept woman, she balked.  She wasn’t ready, until that fateful day.

“Nurse McPherson! This is a disgrace; it’s the fourth time in a row you’ve been ten minutes late.  I’ll have to write a report.”

Kay’s eyes narrowed, and then her temper erupted.  “Please do, and then shove it up your arse!”  There was no going back when she turned and walked out.

She ferried her gear to Michael’s flat; this was a new chapter.  He became her Svengali, pushing her limits and increasing his hold.  His other apartment, his ‘playground,’ became her second home while he taught her his kinks.  He handcuffed her hands behind her back and chained them to the ceiling, after asking her to kneel.  Then he’d sit in an armchair, while she learnt to pleasure him the way he liked.  She’d never had anal sex until Michael strapped her face down to the iron bed, and very gently showed her the way.  He was particularly fond of her in nurse’s uniform though; it was his special thing.  But through every lesson, he was caring and tender.  The best Svengali’s always are, and he always made sure she was satisfied.  He adored watching her come.  Kay had it all, hot sex, no more alarm clocks and money.

One day, he forced the perimeters even further. 

“Kay, I’ve got some good friends.  They just want to watch, that’s all.  Just watch.  My place is private and discrete.  They can’t afford to be seen.”

It took her a while to agree, but when she did, she discovered an unexpected personality.  She called her ‘Crystal, the slut.’  Crystal loved an audience and got drunk on their lust.  She also noticed her cheque account was always full.  Seems the secret guests weren’t stingy.

Perhaps it was inevitable, but during one session, a high profile visitor took her from behind while she was chained at Michael’s knees.  At first, he just stroked and touched appreciatively, but when the heat became unbearable, he fucked her hard.  Another barrier was broken.  The next day, five hundred pounds turned up at her bank.  It was clear how Michael gained power in his circle.

Soon after, she shared a coffee in a smart bistro with Cindy, Michael’s glamorous PA.  “You knew about this from the beginning, didn’t you? Do you entertain for him as well?”  She saw the sex kitten smile.

“Yes, and yes. It’s an easy life darling, as you know.  I’m used to the best by now, I don’t want to be broke again, ever.  You’ve got it good sweetheart.  Michael’s a total gentleman, and he adores you, despite his unusual tastes.  He likes women; that’s why he’s so successful.  It’s different from just lusting after them.  Most men do that, unless they’re gay.”

Kay sipped her brew, deep in thought.  “What do you do, exactly?”  She’d noticed Cindy’s glow.

“Well, it varies, but I make the rules.  These guys are putty when it comes to women, they think with their dicks.  Fortunately, they’ve got the cash to support their tastes – and they need somewhere, and someone, totally discrete.”

And that’s why, at thirty-two, Kay owned a large country house, four investment properties, two cars and spent six months each year travelling the world.  She had time for her passions, and published a couple of books.  The hidden history of women fascinated her, and her second hardback was about Nightingale’s angels.  Seems the women she took with her to wipe fevered brows in the Crimea were streetwalkers, respectable ladies shied away from mopping bodily fluids.  Kay loved the irony, Madonna and whore, two sides of the same coin.  Just that one paid better, and Kay made a decision in that coffee shop, scrabbling for loose change in the corners of an old mattress at the end of the month was over forever.



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