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Introduction:

Queenie sets Miranda on a pathe to prostitution and depravity
Part One

Miranda Holmes locked the door of her small grey Ford car, straightened her grey skirt and checked her grey jacket in the reflection in the glass of the car door before she turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, Alderman Lucas Drive, a boring ordinary Council house in the post war Austerity style just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Miranda knocked loudly, then she stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen. She listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, the silence complete, except, as she strained above the background hum of the city she heard the muted mumble of daytime TV, "Mrs Jarvis, I know you're in there, we have an appointment," Miranda shouted once more.

Queenie Jarvis puffed slowly at her cigarette as she stood immobile in the corner of the front room of her modest home, number Three, Queenie had intended to slip out to avoid Miss Rice, the social worker, but she woke up late and still had not bothered to get dressed, and her bathrobe lay out of reach on the brown leather easy chair and just her thin trademark sheer black negligee, a thong and a tight black laced corset kept out the cold. She shivered as she pulled her thin negligee tighter around her, so her ample breasts were even more clearly out lined. She regretted not having the curtains tightly closed as she tried to get comfortable, to ease the tightly laced corset where it chafed on the implant scar under her left breast, she eased her thong where it was wedged in her arse crack, and wished she was not wearing her three inch heeled stilettos as her feet hurt.

The TV remote control lay with her crisp freshly laundered black DD brassiere on the coffee table out of reach, along with her cigarette papers and lighter.

She knew she had about ten minutes to keep hidden before the social worker got bored and went away so she inhaled the rich blend of home grown herbs and tried to relax.

"Mrs Jarvis!" the voice shrilled, "I watched you go in!"

Queenie eased slowly into a position where she could look through the gap in the curtains and saw a slight figure dressed in grey, her heart sank, she had expected Sandra Rice, three knocks, card through the letter box and off down the pub was her way of working, but this was someone new.

Queenie coughed, and before she realised she was looking into the mean bespectacled eyes of her adversary.

"I knew it!" she said "I am Miranda Holmes of Social Services, we have an appointment so let me in!"

Queenie shuffled across the filthy brown fitted carpet, picking her way through videos, toys, pizza boxes, discarded paper plates, part empty coffee cups and various magazines as she passed between the brown leather couch, and the coffee table and past the wide screen TV towards the hallway and front door. She kicked off her shoes and put on her grubby pink fluffy slippers, grabbed her thick blue bathrobe which slid easily over her sheer black negligee and with her rich peroxide blonde hair in curlers she looked the personification of the English housewife, only her bra less, surgically enhanced, DD breasts and freshly re-touched garish red lipstick really jarred.

"Sorry love," Queenie said brightly, "I didn't hear you."

"May I come in," Miranda replied.

"Yes, mind the mess!" Oueenie cautioned as Miranda stepped cautiously through the doorway.

"Your Children Mrs Jarvis," Miranda asked accusingly, "Do you know where they are."

Queenie thought hard, she remembered they were watching TV then nothing, suddenly the answer became clear, "At School?"

Miranda, was surprised, "Really, then you don't mind if I look around."

"Be my guest love" Queenie suggested.

Miranda retraced her steps to the hallway, she peered into the kitchen diner where a mountain of dishes awaited attention in the sink, while the kitchen units and table appeared to groan under the weight of take away boxes and empty cans.

She started to climb the stairs, cautiously, carefully trying to avoid tell tale creaks from the treads.

"Take your shoes off if you're going upstairs." Queenie ordered, "And leave me Rabbit alone."

Miranda set her worn shoes neatly on the lowest stair, she felt strangely naked as she climbed the stairs in her stockinged feet, wary of needles, she ascended slowly.

The first bedroom was peculiar, small, dark, dirty, the single low energy bulb glowed feebly spilling its brown light across the filthy floor, the heavy worn curtains hid shutters which kept out the daylight, and as Miranda's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the two bunk beds, with bedding on both tiers, one either side of the room. Posters adorned the walls competing for space with clothes hooks and cheap worn storage units and shelves loaded with children's clothes and toys both girls and boys. It was as if both sexes shared the room.

Puzzled, Miranda tried another door, it opened to reveal a room full of junk, some of it discarded boxes once containing new items, much of just junk as far as Miranda could see but junk surrounded the worn single bed, a small TV Video unit, sat beyond the bed and the decor was tobacco stained, discarded clothing some soiled, some apparently fresh was liberally strewn around. The bed itself was in disarray, the duvet cast aside, the stained under sheet crumpled, Miranda realised Queenie had almost certainly been sleeping here until quite recently.

The next door opened into the bathroom, it was filthy as Miranda expected, green tiles, bulging and loose, covered the wall above a green bath with a cracked front panel, and a filthy green shower curtain hung from a rail by the distorted and leaking shower fitting.
A pile of discarded underwear filled the far corner behind the porcelain lavatory pan, and Miranda quickly shut the door to keep the smell of dampness and worse inside.

Miranda was hardly surprised, she had seen worse, at least there was no evidence of dogs, or drugs, but on opening the third bedroom door Miranda was unprepared for the shock.

Red lights, the light switch at the door switched on red lights which cast a dull red glow across the king size bed, the crisp white sheets effectively turned pink by its luminescence while the scarlet duvet cover and quilted headboard added to the image of debauchery and sin.

Scarlet carpets, scarlet curtains turning the daylight pink, everything red, the red walls, adorned, draped she soon noticed with various womens undergarments, each crisp and freshly washed and laundered, bras, panties, corsets, and as her eyes took in the scene she noticed on the far wall a collection of whips handcuffs and chains. Leather straps, harnesses, collars, small and large, and strange constricting devices, even gags filled a further wall, each on its own hook of bracket.

A shelf below the mirror held a wide range of cosmetics and below that Miranda could see various ladies toys lined up, Dildos, Plugs, Vibrators, all neatly aligned and arranged in order of size in complete contrast to the disorder the rest of the house displayed.

"Leave me Rabbit alone." Queenie suddenly shouted, "And don't use the bog."

Miranda suddenly noticed the lavatory, a glazed Porcelain standard WC but strangely erotic as the red light turned it pink, yet it was set within the bedroom, no screening of any sort, with a wash hand basin alongside.

"Rabbit" Miranda queried.

"Rampant Rabbit" Queenie bellowed, "I don't want it dripping with your cunt juice."

"Mrs Jarvis!" Miranda protested, "May I assure you." she had not noticed that Queenie had come upstairs.

"Nice innit." Queenie suggested, "It's where I work see, brings me gentlemen, have I shocked you miss prim and proper."

"No" Miranda sighed, "It's what I was led to expect." but she was still surprised at the contrast.

"Fucking hard work fucking men." Queenie expounded, as she stood in the doorway.

"But it must have its compensations, I expect you find it all very satisfying," Miranda replied breezily as she turned and went to return to the hallway.

"No, it ain't satisfying, that's why I needs me Rabbit." Queenie replied

"So who sleeps here?" Miranda asked stupidly.

"No one this is me work room, I sleeps next door and the kids have the other."

"What boys and girls together." Miranda suggested.

"There's no harm," said Queenie, "I gives em rubbers."

Miranda felt physically sick.

"Only Joking," joked Queenie, "They know the score."

"It says here you have seven children?" Miranda asked.

"Thereabouts," agreed Queenie.

"Well do you?"

"Probably."

"And two of them are called Tony!"

"Yes, different surnames see, to confuse you lot, works a treat don't it.!"

"Mrs Jarvis, please, I have to tell you that my recommendation is that they be taken into care." Miranda explained

"What about me money, me child allowance all that?" Queenie queried.

"Cancelled," Miranda said with a smirk of Triumph.

"Then they stops here with me." Queenie insisted.

"It's quite obvious that the accommodation is hopelessly inadequate, and. indeed that you are an unfit mother, a prostitute and a" The fingers of Queenies left hand curled around Miranda's face with a resonating slap as the force of the unexpected blow silenced Miranda instantly.

The shock threw Miranda off balance and as Queenie lunged forward Miranda found herself falling face down onto Queenie's bed, the breath knocked from her body. "uggh" she moaned, then before she could to recover Queenie had grabbed her right arm, and puhed it agonisingly high up her back pinning her down.

"Let me go!" Miranda squealed.

"How much?" Queenie demanded. "How much money do you want?"

"It's not money its the kids well being." Miranda squealed.

"I works hard for them kids." Queenie explained.

"Flat on your back, hard work, I don't think so." Miranda squeaked.

Queenie released her grip slightly "You bloody think it's like screwing your boyfriend twenty four seven don't you you stupid little bitch."

"Well isn't it?" Miranda suggested.

"No.it's fucking hard work, you imagine, some bloke you never met comes and you have to do what he wants, you know, bangs on the door, some coffin dodger with a stick." Queenie explained, "Or else some guy who has saved up and is so over excited he cums before he hardly gets it in."

"Oh, I never thought." said Miranda,

"Fucking judging when you don't know the half," Queenie complained, "I had tits like yours at school, B cup, but what's the good of them in my game, so I had to have all this fucking sillicon shoved up em, its no bloody fun, they don't unhook, I'm fucking stuck with them twenty four seven."

"Mrs Jarvis!" Miranda squealed, "Let me go."

Miranda struggled and tried to get free, but Queenie held her firm.

"No you bloody bitch you stay down." Queenie demanded.

Miranda heard rather than felt the zipper on her skirt pulled down, "Hey," she wailed, "now stop that."

"No, let's see what a straight laced pencil pusher looks like."

Miranda regretted wearing the thong, and the hold up stockings, but she liked to remain cool in the sultry summer weather, and.

"No, you can't do that" Miranda protested as Queenie edged the grey skirt down her dark stockinged legs , pushing it clear of the bed to fall in a heap on the floor,"Stop." she cried but instead she felt Queenie's hands on the buttons of her jacket then the gentle tugging as Queenie pulled it backwards down her back and off her arms as she pinned them behind her back.

"Stop that right now," Miranda squealed but Queenie was well into her stride, reaching out to grab a set of Handcuffs, keyless playcuffs but with a rachet, and Miranda felt real fear as she felt the cold metal clamping down onto her pale skin, firm immovable, grating against her wrist as she tried to pull her hand clear, and suddenly as Queenie attached the second cuff Miranda realised she was completely unable to free herself.

"Mrs Jarvis please." Miranda struggled to sit up but now Queenie was busy with the buttons on Miranda's tight white blouse.

"Nasty cheap rubbish," Queenie muttered, as she fumbled with the tiny buttons and button holes then suddenly she lost patience and she simply grabbed the back of Miranda's blouse and tugged, the stitching along the bottom edge started to stretch then suddenly it was tearing, ripping faster and faster exposing more and more of Miranda's pale back and shoulders until finally the tear reached her her collar and the garment fell in half.

"No" squealed Miranda but Queenie pulled again and this time the sleeves tore away and she was able to throw the ruined shirt away into the far corner of the room, leaving just the sleeves draped over her lower arms, "You're in real trouble now, that was expensive." she complained.

"It was tat you little liar," Queenie chortled "Supermarket Tat, nice bra though," she mumbled, as she flipped the catch, the tension released it fell forward revealing Miranda's small delicate breasts, "My god it's padded, my your chest's as flat as a bloke." Queenie exclaimed unfairly.

"That's enough!" Miranda squealed but as she squirmed around on the bed helplessly Queenie grabbed a second pair of handcuffs from a bracket on the wall, a set with a long chain between cuffs and fastened one end around Miranda's slender ankle and the other around the polished mahogany leg of the bed.

Queenie stood back from the bed and watched Miranda as she struggled to sit up. Queenie decided that she liked what she saw, "You don't look so bloody official now, " she observed.

"You're over-dressed you don't need those here." Queenie observed as she grabbed the waistband of Miranda's thong and pulled it firmly down, past the broad elasticated band atb the top of Miranda's pull ups and on down her shapely slender thighs to nestle around her ankles.

Miranda struggled flailing her free leg but Queenie was too strong and Miranda was left wearing just her pull up stockings, with her panties around her left leg and her Bra hanging loose from her shoulders.

"You look a mess," Queenie suggested, "Better get that Bra off," she announced as she fished a pair of scissors from a drawer.

"The, the straps unhook" Miranda said quietly, "Please don't spoil it."

Queenie felt around the straps and released the clips so she could pull the bra clear.

Miranda started to panic as she saw Queenie was still brandishing the scissors, she cut away the remaining sleeves from Miranda's blouse and then Queenie suggested, "Better stay really still," Miranda's eyes widened and she held her breath as she watched Queenie advance the blades towards the light brown curls of Miranda's crotch.

"Oh god no" Miranda pleaded but though Queenie was cutting, snipping, stripping away the downy fur from her pubis. Miranda was at least relieved that she was not cutting her prized chestnut hair, she shuddered at the thought of being left bald, forced to wear a wig, she gritted her teeth and prayed Queenie would be careful.

"Keep still or I might cut your clit off." Queenie advised as she worked steadily away, snipping with an expert quick clicking motion sending a cascade of fine hairs onto the the bed, Queenie wiped her finger along the long slit to remove stray hairs, she flicked the hairs on the floor and then raised her finger to her lips.

"You taste of piss you filthy cow." Queenie announced, then mocking Miranda's middle class accent she continued "You need to improve you personal hygiene if you're going to look after my men dear."

"No, look this has gone far enough." Miranda announced as she tried desperately to regain control of her situation but Queenie had other ideas.

Miranda heard the buzzing and thought at first Queenie had a vibrator, but then she realised it was a cordless shaver, "No time to get you waxed, so this will have to do," she told Miranda as she gently moved the floating heads over the the gentle folds and the stubble of Miranda's remaining pubic hair, leaving a smooth swathe in it's wake.

"Please no." Miranda pleaded as Queenie dextrously moved the buzzing cutters around Miranda's now hairless mound.

"There, that's better," Queenie suggested as she wiped Miranda sex with a wet wipe, continuing through her legs to freshen around her anus before gently inserting a finger tip within the enveloping folds of her Labia.

"No," Miranda pleaded once more but Queenie withdrew the finger and raised it to her mouth to taste it once more,

"Much more acceptable." Oueenie announced in the mocking middle class accent as she smiled as she delivered her verdict.

"All right, you've had your fun, now let me go!" Miranda demanded, pushing Queenie away with her shoulder, as she tried again to free herself but Queenie had other ideas, she stood up and walked to the far wall, carefully selected a black leather dog collar from its hook and a long leash from a drawer and as Queenie returned to the bed Miranda was helpless to prevent her fastening the collar around her neck.

Miranda was aghast at this further humiliation but she could do nothing to prevent it as Queenie pulled the leash to drag Miranda off balance once more sending her sprawling across the bed before she looped the loose end in a crude knot around the far leg of the bed.

Queenie took a second leash, from the drawer, tied it around the bed frame before she took down another set of handcuffs and after a brief struggle she secured Miranda's loose leg and despite her frantic writhing she pinned Miranda's legs firmly before releasing the handcuffs one by one so she could peel Miranda's thong off.

Miranda realised to her horror that as Queenie again tightened the cuffs around her ankles that she was spread untidily across the bed, her legs spread, her sex displayed and totally vulnerable.

Queenie stood back breathing heavily, the sweat running from her forehead, she wiped it away with her hand before wiping her hand on her sheer black negligee.

"You needs a corset," Queenie announced, she spotted something suitable on a hook on the bedroom wall and pulled it down, It looked like a regular corset, it even had adjustable laces but the zipper made it supremely practical and Queenie realised the gaudy red and black cheap leather effect corset would be eminently suitable for Miranda's new role.

It took but a few seconds for Queenie to put the corset in position, she simply pushed and slid it under Miranda's side before pulling it closed around her, before pulling up the zipper. to hold Miranda's tummy flat which had the effect of pushing up her vestigial breasts.

"My tits were just like that," Queenie announced, "Except my nips didn't stand up that much, are you a dyke dear?"

"No, I'm cold." Miranda protested, but the beads of sweat glistening between her breasts proved the contrary.

"Nearly done dear, lets make you look pretty" Queenie suggested as she selected garish pink eye shadow, bright scarlet lipstick,and deodorant from her toiletries on the shelf below the mirror. She put them on the bed and first started to colour Miranda's lips, Miranda jerked away but Queenie grabbed her shoulder length chestnut hair and used it as a handle to keep her head firm.

The thin line of dull red lips rapidly gave way to an uneven garish scarlet slash, sexy yet cheap, as Queenie liberally applied the lipstick then she was busy with the eye shadow, colouring Miranda's eyelids as Miranda cowered in fear of being blinded, blusher crudely applied gave the glow of health to Miranda's pallid cheeks, then more scarlet lipstick, but this time she applied it to the lips of Miranda's sex.

Finally Queenie stood back to admire her handiwork, but realised there was more to do, the chestnut hair cascading, spoiled the illusion, Queenie thought about cutting it but then decided to separate it into child like pig tails, she had ribbons in a drawer and with pins and ribbons she soon had Miranda's hair tied awkwardly like that of a rebellious teenager.

The effect of separating Miranda's chestnut locks into two ribboned pig tails was dramatic suddenly she was a caricature of innocence, a cheap tart personified, her own dark stockings and Queenie's corset her only clothing but clothing intended to accentuate not hide her sexuality.

It was the work,of a moment for Queenie to take out Miranda's diamond ear studs and replace them with a pair of huge, gaudy, ugly, cheap ear rings which she had found on a market stall, and suddenly Queenie realised she had done what she jokingly set out to do, she had transformed the social worker into a tart, a cheap tart, but not a prostitute.

The realisation dawned, Queenie had joked that Miranda could do her three o'clock client, now she realised it would be easier for Miranda to do the three o'clock, in fact there was no way she could get Miranda out of the bedroom in time, and the gentleman was only a weedy office worker with a premature ejaculation problem, all she had to do to was sell it as bondage and shut Miranda up somehow.

"All right, please enough is enough." Miranda again suggested but Queenie saw the ideal item hanging on the wall in front of her, a red and black ball gag with an elasticated strap.Queenie took it from its hook and held it close to Miranda's mouth.

"No" Miranda protested through gritted teeth, as she realised Queenie's intentions, but Queenie just held her nose until she needed to breath and then as her mouth opened Queenie forcibly and brutally pushed the gag deep into Miranda's mouth and tightened the straps to pull it firmly into place.

"Comfy?" asked Queenie, Miranda shook her head.

"Good you can do me three o'clock," Queenie said brightly as she took a tube of lubricant and squirted it all along Miranda's lipstick smeared slit before working some gently into the softness of her sex.

Suddenly they heard a knock at the door. Queenie rushed to the wardrobe and grabbed a simple skirt and top which she threw on at lightening speed before slipping a simple housecoat over th top.

"Back in a mo" she said and slipped from the room to descend the stairs.

Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.

Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.

Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.


Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.

Part 3

Queenie turned to look at back across the un-mown grass towards her house, she stared at the peeling paint and the cracked guttering and the twisted TV aerial and smiled as she realised she could see right in to the front room where Miranda had so recently been masturbating with a broom handle, Miranda was out of sight now lying on the floor, bur perhaps she could sit on the couch where she could be seen again, like the whores in the shop windows in Amsterdam.

She turned to watch as a dirty Toyata Mini cab drew up and the driver reluctantly emerged to open the rear door for an elderly gentlmaen of military bearing to emerge.

"Major Fforbes, right on time." Queenie greeted him.

"Bit over-dressed old girl eh what" the Major replied.

Queenie looked at the Major his once ramrod straight back now sadly bowed, his grey mackintosh belonged to a different era as did his deerstalker hat while his suit bore testimony to the tailors art of half a century previously.

"I have a treat for you Major." Queenie promised.

"You're always a treat my dear." he replied gallantly, "Lead on."

"Oi, money." The driver whined.

"Account dear boy, put it on the account, and come for me in shall we say forty five minutes?"

"Well I want paying then mind." the driver conceded and reluctantly drove away.

"Bloody people," the Major sighed, "Wasn't like this back in India."

"No Major," Queenie consoled him, "But come along in."

Queenie opened the Lounge door and ushered the Major inside, he stopped abruptly as he saw Miranda.

"She's only thirteen," she lied, "Tania's friend, I thought of you."

"What," the Major spluttered, "Oh,"

"She had a little overdose," Queenie suggested, "so she probably won't remember anything, what do you say?"

"Is she a?" the Major asked leaving the word unsaid.

"No, she's had all sorts," Queenie confirmed, "filthy little cow, but you like the young ones don't you, and she's yours for an extra fifty over our usual, if that's all right."

Major Fforbes gazed at Miranda's lovliness through his tired old cataract filled eyes and in his mind he saw the young teenager Queenie described, he reached for his wallet, "D'you think she'll suck me when she wakes up?"

"She's all ready for you now Major, all lovely and wet and willing." Queenie expained.

"She can still suck the old love muscle," the Major continued, "Not as rampant these days eh what."

But Queenie had already drawn the curtains and as the Major hung his mackintosh on the back of the Lounge door , Queenie pulled Miranda onto the leather couch and slid a finger into Miranda's still slippery vagina to emerge glistening for the Major's approval.

Queenie walked to the door and flicked a switch beside the light switch and the unseen cameras began their recordings.

The Major fumbled with his fly buttons, and his braces before sliding his old but expensively tailored trousers to his knees, Queenie stifled a laugh as his dirty soiled long john long legged underpants followed and he moved closer to Miranda to offer his three inches of floppy partially excited manhood to Miranda's lips, Queenie cringed at the filthy almost back discolouration of the Major's testes, was it disease or merely lack of personal hygiene, she wondered, the smell suggested the latter, but she was glad that today at least she would forgo the evil taste of his disgusting member.

The Major leaned forward, his left arm supporting his weight against the high back of the couch, his right hand holding and aiming his three inches of circumcised wrinkled pinkness with its bulbous purple head until it caressed Miranda's scarlet lips and as the smell assailed her she yawned involuntarily allowing the Major to thrust his rapidly hardening member further into her sweet mouth until she coughed, exciting him further,

"I think you had better put it." Queenie said but before she could say in her cunt, the Major's face contorted as the big vein at the side of his neck throbbed and his breathing became ragged so much so that Queenie thought he was having a heart attack, or a stroke or seizure, "Please god not a heart attack." she muttered.

"I'm" the Major, muttered, "Going to cum in my pants I fear," he said as he lost awareness of the situation, as pleasure overwhelmed him.

"Yes dear, it's all right," Queenie reassured him "You cum if you want to love, I'll clean you up."

But it was unnecessary, his pink wrinkled filthy manhood jerked and a thick bead of grey slime oozed out of the dark orifice at the tip of the wrinkled bulbous purple head, flopping over Miranda's tongue and lower teeth just as Miranda turned her head away leaving a trail of slime across her cheek which oozed and slid down over her chin before dripping and sliding down.

to join the further weaker spurts of slime which hit Miranda's neck and ran down between her breasts.

"I've cum in my trousers Queenie, I'm sorry." the Major said as he flopped onto the couch beside Miranda.

"Never mind love," Queenie reassured him as she wiped his shrunken penis with a tea towel, "As long as you enjoyed yourself." she folded the towel and asked "Cup of Tea."

Miranda stirred and Queenie reached to clean some of the ejaculate from Miranda's mouth.

"Let me," the Major said.

"You keep that away from her cunt, I know you you old goat." Queenie replied, "She's too young to go on the pill."

He smiled, "I can dream" he said.

"And go to prison, no you pull your trousers up and come through to the kitchen."

Miranda rested on the couch, sleepily snoozing, dreaming dreams that she had been kidnapped and was being ravished in a Arabian harem,

She slept through the Minicab driver collecting the Major and didn't even realise Queenie's pimp Ron had come to check her over.

Ron was in his forties, reasonably fit, a bit too short for his own liking at five foot seven, with his skin sunburned and weather beaten he would almost have passed for an Asian except for his light brown hair. Ron was the local window cleaner, it was a good cover for his drug dealing, and he was wearing his heavy boots and his Denim work suit over a clean white shirt with the sleeves rolled up as he stood looking down at Miranda as she dozed on the leather couch naked except for her corset and stockings.


Ron had been Queenie's pimp for ten years and more, she was twenty something when they got together, she had three kids, no husband, no partner, no money, drug debts and a fourth kid on the way, Ron had this punter who liked them young and pregnant, and so the deal was done and Ron took 25%, he never hit her, sent her to rehab when her habit spiralled and got too expensive and had her breasts enlarged, three times so far. He never had turf wars with other pimps, never got pulled by the police, charged reasonable margins, provided good consistent quality gear, paid off the right people and won himself many friends.

"You're on your own this time Queenie," Ron announced, "You could go down for this, you still got that rubber mask?"

"You filthy bugger." Queenie complained.

"Might as well make a Video," Ron suggested, "Shall we get Mikey around."

"Her ass looks tight as a bloody airlock." Queenie reminded him.

"Look, order a Pizza and shut up." Ron ordered.

Queenie made the call, and she and Ron went to the red bedroom where Ron undressed, "I'll use the harness and take her from behind while she sucks Stevie off, Ron suggested.

"What do I do?" asked Queenie.

"Camera, hand held camera." Ron suggested, "Do it in the lounge, no you wear the rubber with the whip," Queenie pointed to the suit on the wall, Ron continued, "yeah long plastic boots, that rubber cat suit with the holes for your tits and the crotch cut out, that one," he pointed " and you tell the bitch what to do, tell her to ignore me fucking her and concentrate on giving head.

The bedroom seemed too small suddenly as Queenie peeled her housecoat and sensible skirt off and Ron tried to remember how the bondage harness was supposed to fit, and the realisation that the last wearer had been at least six inches taller, shoulder straps, breast straps, waist straps, crotch straps all had to be adjusted, "Want the boots" asked Queenie.

The elasticated one size fits all leather effect play boots remained on the wall.

"They make me look a prat." Ron complained.

"You look a right prat already," Queenie laughed, "come on make a proper job of it." she handed Ron the boots and watched as he pulled them on.

Queenie dusted herself liberally with Talcum powder before wriggling into the cat suit, getting her breasts through the holes was the worst part because her implant scars rubbed if it was not put on exactly right.

"What about the tail" joked Ron.

"Fuck off, I ain't having that up my arse," Queenie insisted. "Let me get my coat on and get downstairs."

The street lights were coming on as Mike Bates propped his Honda against the lamp post and took the boxed Pizza from the large top box, before striding down the path to number three.

Queenie opened the door in her housecoat, "Have you got a few minutes Mike?" she asked.

"Filming again?" he asked.

"Yeah, five hundred flat or a percentage," Ron's voice boomed."You want in?"

"Yeah, cash, please." Mike agreed, "Like now is it?"

"Yes dear, that's why Ron looks such a prat." Mike stepped inside to allow Queenie to shut the door and Mike looked up the stairs to see Ron, with the rubber mask on and a bathrobe which failed to hide his erection or the ridiculous leather effect boots.

"You got that fucking silly harness on again mate." Mike chortled winding Ron up.

"Lets call it two fifty shall we?" Ron replied.

"No offence mate!" Mike chuckled, "Where's the lucky lady."

"Through here love," Queenie answered, "She's a bit tired, but what we want is her sucking your cock while Ron shafts her from behind and I order her about."

Mike walked into the lounge, "Fucking hell, she looks rough." he exclaimed, "I reckon Ron's got bigger tits."

"I warned you." Ron said as he threw his bathrobe aside to reveal his hairy chest, the brass buckles and black leather of the harness contrasting with his lightly suntanned chest with its mass of curly dark brown hair, and down below his Penis pulled through the slot in the the crotch strap which was pulled tight into his arse crack somehow emphasised his raw maleness.

"I reckon you fancy me." Mike said as he grinned at Ron.

"Fucking shut up and get your dick out," Ron said sternly.

"Yes dear sit on the couch, Queenie suggested, "and Miranda can suck you as Ron comes up behind, I'll handcuff him and guide him in, is that clear?"

Heads nodded and Queenie playfully roused Miranda from her slumbers with a swat with the cords of her whip across Miranda's creamy white inner thigh.

"Ahhgghh," Miranda squealed, "Where am I?" she asked, then as realisation dawned she remembered but her chest and cheek felt wet and sticky, she tried to stretch but her wrists were still taped to her thighs.

"We're making a film and you're going to be the star, Randa, what do you think of that?" Queenie asked.

"Oh god no way." said Miranda as she blushed furiously as she saw Mike and Ron staring at her crotch,

"Mr Plonk is very ugly so he wears a mask," Queenie explained, "now get so you can suck Mike while Ron gets in position." Queenie clicked the camera switch and picked up the hand held camera, as Miranda frantically looked from Ron to Mike to Queenie as she tried to plan her escape but it was impossible.

Miranda stared at Ron in his harness, even in her terror she could barely stop herself laughing out loud but clearly it excited him from the gentle upward curve of his erection.

"Please no" Miranda pleaded but Ron ignored the script and pausing only to take a condom from Queenie and roll it over his thickening erection he grasped Miranda's slender upper arms with his rough calloused hands and easily lifted Miranda bodily to a standing position before pushing her heck forward with his left hand while pulling her waist back with his right arm to force her to bend from the waist.

Rons rough fingers rasped across Miranda's tiny breasts, his hot breath rasped on her neck, ad to her horror she found her nipples tingling with anticipation, visibly swelling, then she felt fingers at the lips of her sex, slippery fingers smeared with lubricant, dainty feminine finger, exploring, exciting, driving her wild.

"You like it don't you?" Queenie asked.

"NNngg" Miranda replied, "Please stop, I don't"

"All right dear, I understand," Queenie confirmed, "you don't want my fingers, you want Ron's cock."

For gods sake keep to the script." Ron muttered but as he felt Queenie's experienced fingers guiding him into Miranda's soft hot wetness he decided the script was a waste of time and gripped and kneaded Miranda's tiny breasts firmly as he forced himself deep inside her, her enveloping folds spreading easily to welcome his entry, Miranda gasped and gasped again as his second thrust took him deeper and the next deeper still but awkwardly, she didn't like it, the curve in his manhood pressed in the wrong places, it was too fat and, she realised not long enough, his balls slapped her crotch with every thrust now but then Miranda saw Mike advancing.

Mike stood beside the couch, his trousers discarded and his long straight penis straining, why couldn't he fuck me instead?" Miranda wondered instead of recoiling the way she would only this very morning.

"Suck it." Mike ordered, tentatively, slapping it against her cheek for effect.

"Open up dear." Queenie ordered,

"No!" Miranda shouted but Queenies fingers were ready and as Miranda's mouth widened Queenie roughly forced Miranda's jaw open revealing her little creamy coloured teeth and her long furry pink tongue.

"Uggh." Miranda exclaimed, "look at that disgusting tongue.

"I gowwa colg" Miranda said explaining she had a cold.

"Never mind," said Queenie, "Mike will fuck it better, you suck him nicely dear."

"No," Miranda exclaimed. but Queenie held her jaw firm as Mike tentatively eased the tip of his beautifully streamlined appendage between Miranda's scarlet lips, Miranda braced her self for the stench and taste of piss but to her shock it merely tasted of saltiness and fresh sweat

The tip of his penis weighed down her tongue as it eased gently inwards, and then she panicked, her breathing became laboured and Queenie jerked her head back and shoulders down to straighten her windpipe.

"Make a mouth cunt for him Miranda," Queenie requested, "let him fuck your mouth properly, you'll like it, both ends fucked together, it's lovely.
Miranda knew she was dying, Mike's prick was choking her, her world was going black a.s she started to pass out but she knew she had to survive, she gasped for breath sucking air greedily and sucking Mike's penis as she did so.

"Fucking hell can this girl suck," Mike exclaimed, "where did you get her from, is she a pro?

"Keep the rhythm going mate," Ron reminded him, "This is hard work." Ron humped energetically, the sweat pouring from his brow dripping onto her buttocks and dripping down her arse crack onto his rapidly pistoning penis sliding easily in a sea of Miranda's juices and lube which leaked and dribbled down her inner thighs without the addition of any sweat as lubricant.

Mike held Miranda's cheeks firmly as she she sucked or was it gasped for breath, the sensations raced around his shaft as it slithered in and out of her throat excited beyond belief by her tongue the constrictions of her throat and the hot and cold draft of her breath passing over his shaft like the gossamer wings of an angel.

"This is great,she must be real experienced." Mike exclaimed, as he tried to shove his testicles in Miranda's mouth along with his shaft.

"Shut up, we're going to have to bloody dub this," Ron complained, "Just shag the tart all right."

Mike suddenly misunderstood Ron's words.

"Fuck, she's a fucking pro," Mike exclaimed, "She might have aids, she's sucking my prick without a rubber."

Mike changed from trying to stuff himself as far down Miranda's throat as possible to trying to pull out but the movement was making Miranda choke, and as she gasped she sucked Mike even harder.

"Don't be daft, you can't get Aids from a blow job," Ron explained but Mike was determined, pushing Miranda's face away from him, pushing her against Ron as Ron continued to thrust back at her.

"Fuck I'm cumming" Mike wailed as he lost balance and fell back away from Miranda, as his hot white semen gushed forth in repeated spurts, shooting inches into her mouth then as she closed her mouth splashing her forehead, right up into her sparkling chestnut brown hair. splashing her eyelid then as the force diminished rolling off her chin and splashing onto her breasts before the final emission dribbled across her thighs.

"Fucking Tart." Mike swore as he slapped Miranda across the cheek.

"She works for the Council." Queenie told him, "Strictly amateur you bloody fool."

Miranda fell forward against the backrest of the couch burying her face into the leather cushions, smearing them with Mike's cum.

"Oh my god." she wailed.

"Stop it you'll tear me bollocks off" Ron cried, "Oh fuck."

Ron convulsed helplessly as he orgasmed, pushing Miranda ever further into the leather as she tried to support her own weight and Rons with her neck muscles until finally Ron dragged himself off her.

"Fuck the lot of you," Mike swore as he dragged his trousers back on and grabbed his crash helmet, even forgetting to take the cash for the Pizza as he rushed back to his Moped.

Miranda rolled onto the floor, gasping yet relieved to be alive, her hair a sticky mess, her breasts and face covered with creamy slime to which the dust and filth of Queenie's couch and carpets was now sticking.

The tears flowed, tears of humiliation and tears of frustration mingled with the creamy cum and trickled down Miranda's cheeks.

"Turn the Camera off Queenie," Ron ordered, "I reckon Mike fucked that up good and proper, I'll get changed and make a move."

Miranda heard Rons footsteps as he climbed the stairs, the rustling noises of him undressing and the sounds of him dressing and returning to the Lounge, "Get rid of her." he ordered.

"Yes Ron," Queenie agreed, "Any ideas.?"

"Whiskey, half a bottle then dump her in a shop doorway on the Mansfield, let the Vice squad take her in." Ron suggested, "Anyway I got to get going."

"I want to die" Miranda moaned,

"Not yet dear," Queenie suggested, "I have plans for you."


Part 4

Miranda lay helpless on her back on the floor between the brown leather couch and the Coffee table, unable to free her wrists from the layers of tape binding them to her thighs, cold, thirsty, sore, covered in cum and sweat and tears with fluff and sweet papers stuck to her skin and the now filthy and sticky corset and black hold up stockings that were her only clothing. She tried in vain to spit the cum from her mouth and then in desperation tried to swallow it, "I need a drink." she shouted as she heard Ron's car drive away.

She heard Queenie returning from the kitchen, she placed a glass on the coffee table beside her freshly laundered DD bra and sat on the couch and suggested ,"Drink this." as she brought the glass of clear liquid to Miranda's lips.

The smooth cool liquid refreshed Miranda, erasing the taste of fresh slightly salty cum, but the aftertaste was unmistakable, as was the burning sensation down her throat.

"Aaagggg thats Vodka" Miranda cried.

"Yes dear, best to be a bit pissed I always say," Queenie suggested, "Had enough?"

"For gods sake give me some water!" Miranda pleaded but Queenie just laughed, and stared at Miranda, trying to reconcile the filthy broken train wreck of a girl she saw lying helpless with the Council worker who came with threats earlier.

"Still going to take me kids off of me?" Queenie asked.

Miranda stared back. "It's my job."

"Was" Queenie corrected venomously, "You're a fucking little whore now."

Queenie had the germ of an idea, she put the glass of Vodka back on the coffee table and idly punched a button on the black plastic remote which turned the TV on before turning to return to the hallway. The familiar sound of the news reader reporting world events made Miranda's situation seem even more surreal as Queenie slowly climbed the stairs and went into her bedroom, and began to search among the boxes and suitcases and cupboards until she found what she wanted, a red jacket she once wore, before she had her implants, a stained black leather miniskirt which she thought Miranda might squeeze into and some scuffed and worn black sling back shoes with four inch stiletto heels.

Miranda heard Queenie moving around upstairs and somehow she levered herself off the floor, pushed the coffee table aside and rolled first onto her side and then onto her knees and then by degrees rolled first to a sitting position on the couch and then she she stood up uncertainly and unsteadily and made her way carefully towards the kitchen. She searched for something to drink. She tried to open the refrigerator but with her wrists secured to her thighs it was impossible, she tried to turn a tap with her mouth but it was immovable, there was nothing to drink on the shelves but when she saw there was a dogs bowl by the sink unit nearly full of dirty water she quickly knelt down and started to drink from it. cool sweet water, it slid like nectar down her parched yet slimy throat.
Queenie decided to take a shower, she undressed, throwing her clothes in a heap on the bed and walked toward the bathroom, her breasts swaying with the motion of her hips, but then she decided she didn't have time, and instead dressed in a tight white shirt, a couple of sizes too small in fact, and a suspender belt with stockings, with a short black skirt and windcheater coat, she chose trainers for footwear in case she needed to make a run for it and collected the clothes she had found for Miranda and made her way downstairs.

Miranda was still trying to lick the last drops of water from the bowl and didn't hear Queenie approach. "That's the dog's bowl you filthy bitch" Queenie chided her as she returned clutching the old red jacket, skirt and high heel shoes.

Queenie took the jacket and draped it around Mirandas shoulders before doing up the three black buttons which fastened it down the front trapping her arms to her sides again, "Can't get into it since I had me tits done," she explained, "This skirts fucked, you might as well have it, I can't get the cum stains out " she continued as she made Miranda stand and step into the tight little leather miniskirt which she pulled up and then zipped up with some difficulty, and then finally she made Miranda sit on the table while she forced the high heeled shoes onto poor Miranda's feet.

The shoes were at least two sizes too small, they cramped Miranda's feet, "Can you walk dear" Queenie asked, as she helped Miranda down from the table. The shoes cramped Miranda's feet so severely that she could barely walk but Queenie had forced them on and tightened the buckles until they bit deeply into Miranda's delicate nylon clad ankle but there was no doubt that they looked ridiculously sexy.

Miranda sadly said "No" as she tottered around unsteadily, as Queenie guided her back to the Lounge where she opened the curtains to reveal an evening of darkness and rain.

"We better put you to work young lady." Queenie suggested."You'll need these." she told Miranda as she took a hand full of condoms from the fruit bowl on the sideboard and tucked them unto the pockets of the jacket.

Queenie checked that she had Miranda's car keys as she gently guided her towards the front door, Miranda had been plotting how to escape from number three to the sanctuary of her car all afternoon but now as Queenie opened the front door and pointed to the car saying "I'll drive," she felt real terror. She froze but Queenie pushed her firmly onwards, to where the cold and damp assailed her, her heels scrunched on the broken tarmac, and as she approached the car she saw her pale reflection in the car window cast by the orange glow of the streetlights. She looked like a train wreck, like the dead junkies in the warning adverts.

She felt cold and afraid and above all dirty, her neck and breasts still smeared with slime, which had pooled and congealed under the corset, her crotch smeared with her own juices and liquid lube which had run down and soaked into her stockings She was only too aware that her breasts and pussy were naked under the jacket and skirt, her nipples grew stiff with cold, and then to her horror she felt herself getting damp again.

A lone man walking a dog watched as she climbed in to the front passenger seat of her car she knew he must have seen right up her short skirt, she knew he had seen her naked shaven pubes, her glistening slit, and she sat legs together as she felt the slippery wetness leaking from her, moistening the area round her anus as it dribbled down before soaking into the car seat.

Her hair hung awkwardly, sticky with cum, filthy with dust from Queenie's floor, she sat humiliated as Queenie sat behind the wheel.

"I haven't driven for years," Queenie said as she serched for the slot for the ignition key before starting the engine and crashing onto first gear with a grinding crunch.

"Clutch," screamed Miranda, but Queenie gunned the engine and they set off with a series of hops and jerks before selecting second gear which she stayed in for the next mile.

They parked behind Superdrug at the area centre, Queenie guided Miranda from the car and down the quiet street then down a back alley between the serried ranks of mid Victorian red brick terraced houses.

"Out you get." Queenie ordered, as she opened the door wide and pulled Miranda out of the seat."

"I can't people will see," Miranda whined.

"Don't make a fuss," Queenie warned, "Or you'll get arrested for soliciting, just think doing community service, no job, no reputation, you'll be doing this every night, instead of just the nights I tell you."

Queenie locked the car and pointed to a narrow alleyway leading down between the back gardens of two rows of red brick Victorian terraced houses, leading between the crumbling red brick garden walls, its cobblestones now covered by a thin layer of crumbling tarmac, she guided Miranda away from the comfort zone of the car, across the road and into the alleyway, street lights cast their glow from iron posts many at drunken angles now, posts which started as gas lamp posts perhaps a century earlier. Built for access to gardens, barely wide enough for a single car, single and double gates led variously to gardens and sheds and workshops, some gardens tiny oasis in the turmoil of city life, others rat infested tips which served equally as wildlife havens, some fortified with barbed wire, others open of merely protected notionally by a broken gate.

Miranda tottered awkwardly on her undersized shoes and high heels as Queenie led her among the puddles through the gentle rain towards the distant lights and sounds of the main road, past crumbling brick walls, with slogans, graffiti, broken bottles and discarded condoms and syringes.

"Good spot this," Queenie said pointing to a broken garden gate, "secluded like." they passed a section of wall rebuilt in modern breeze block and then emerged from the alleyway first into a similar alleyway running at right angles and after a few more yards into a rundown shopping street, Miranda recognised the "Royal George" pub opposite, and the second hand bicycle shop next door as being right in the centre of the red light area.

"Queenie, you slumming it again?" a voice from the shadows, a dark girl emerged from the shadows wearing jeans and sweater, "You'll get arrested dressed like that." she continued.

"Hi Bernice," Queenie acknowledged, "I've got to teach this bitch a lesson, thinks she's better than us."

Bernice emerged from the darkness of the doorway of the clothes shop, to stand under the lamplight, "fine, get arrested then," she peered at Miranda, "I know that bitch."

"Social services." Queenie replied.

Bernice lashed out slapping Miranda across both cheeks, "Bitch, I bet you're fucking enjoying this," she swore before she drove her hand up under Miranda's short skirt, seeking out her sex. "Bloody hell Queenie her cunt's leaking like a sewer." Bernice announced as her fingers probed then emerged glistening into the night air.

Queenie saw a man approaching, "Ask if he want's business." Queenie ordered.

"No!" Miranda cried.

"You looking mate?" Queenie shouted, but the man scuttled away.

"How much are you charging please?" a voice asked from the shadows. A slightly accented voice, Asian, Pakistani perhaps

"She charges Twenty for straight." Queenie replied.

"That sounds fair, is there somewhere we can go?" he asked.

"Down the alley." Queenie replied.

"No," Miranda squealed, "you can't."

"First night,"Queenie responded, "she owes big time see, you still on?" The man emerged into the lamplight his face still in shadow but his jet black hair glistening in the street light's orange glow

"What about you?" he asked Queenie, "Are you working madam?"

"Just pimping tonight mate." she replied, "time of the month."

"Are you on?" Queenie asked. The man nodded and as Miranda looked on wide eyed Queenie put an arm round her and led down the alleyway through the broken gate and into an overgrown garden.

The wet grass was inches long on the overgrown pathway and just inside the wall was the outside lavatory with its door hanging from only one hinge. Spiders webs hung like lace curtains, the iron lavatory cistern inside encrusted with rust, the lavatory pan shone white through the dirt, while the rain dripped constantly through the cracked ceiling tiles.

Queenie guided Miranda inside, before unzipping her skirt and jacket and pulling her skirt up under her breasts to expose her sex.

"Money, ask the gentleman for the money." Queenie suggested.

"No, please." Miranda wailed but Queenie silenced her with a slap and suddenly Miranda found herself saying. "Twenty pounds, ah please."

Queenie made Miranda stand with one foot on the lavatory pan and one on the floor to allow easy access for her customer, Miranda looked at him fearfully, knowing her sex was on full view. She shuddered involuntarily as his fingers probed her wet softness, as his wedding ring grazed across her clit as he accidentally aroused her, he felt her dampness, the warm willing wetness of a bitch on heat and he rushed to undo his cheap pants and release his member.

He was dark, Asian probably, and his breath smelled of curry, and he was circumcised, that was all Miranda knew when she sold herself that first time, and his penis was short and fat, and as soon as Queenie rolled a condom on him he just rammed his manhood brutally at her defenceless softness. She yielded easily almost willingly and she braced herself mentally for the relief which must surely come. His thrusts lifted her bodily, pushing her hair up into the spiders webs and crushing her soft lower lips with his pelvis as he thrusted like an enraged beast but then oh so suddenly he was sighing and slowing, softening within her as he shot his load into the condom, it seemed to Miranda it was over almost before it started, and her inner tensions increased coiling like an over wound spring until she burst into wracks of sobbing tears.

Miranda sobbed and cried, the tears of humiliation and frustration mingled again to drip from her chin to slowly slide their glistening path down her cleavage.

"She's good, so tight," the man chuckled heartlessly as he pulled up his trousers and tucked the crisp twenty pound note into to Miranda's corset, then still struggling to tuck his shirt into hos waistband he turned and walked away, through the broken gate and into the night.

Queenie pulled Miranda from the ruined outside lavatory, she pulled Miranda's skirt back down to cover her pubes but left the jacket open, bathing Miranda's breasts in the pale glow of the street lights , the gentle breeze exposing first one then the other small dark nipple as she walked.

"How was your first John." Queenie asked, "That was a good one, in and out quick and move on."

"It was horrible." Miranda sobbed.

"Don't be a baby!" Queenie counselled.

Footsteps approached as they emerged past the broken gate, a man approached, drunk, twenties, white, dressed in denim with white shirt, clean shaven.

"Ask him." Queenie demanded.

"Are you?" Miranda managed to stutter,

The rain fell softly on the broken tarmac between the redbrick garden walls, collecting in glistening pools where the drains were blocked, rain drops fell gently from above to glisten in Miranda's now cobweb enshrouded hair.

"Fuck off I ain't that desperate." he replied.

"Tenner for a blow job." Queenie offered, "the kid that is."

He turned, "You're on."

"No" Miranda protested but Queenie pushed her down, she had to kneel, or else fall flat on her face, so she allowed her face to be pushed forward, towards the shiny zipper on the clean denims where the man was frantically trying to extract his slumbering penis.

It emerged like a fat worm, a lazy fat worm wanting merely to, Miranda kissed it flicked it with her tongue, clamped her lips around it and as she almost gagged with the smell and taste of urine tried to suck it but it remained resolutely flaccid.

He pushed her away and she staggered before crashing into the wall shoulder first, "Fucking useless bitch" he screamed.

"You owe me a tenner!" Miranda screamed after him.

"You're learning girl." Queenie praised her, "try this chap." Queenie suggested as a tall young man turned the corner from the main street and approached them

"Are you looking?" Miranda asked tentatively.

"Something a bit more upmarket, no offence." he replied.

"She's got lovely little tits," Queenie told him, "I have to keep her bondaged because she gets violent."

"No, alright." the young man replied, "I'm not interested," he paused "How much?"

"Fifty." said Miranda, "Surely I'm worth fifty."

"No, you're all right."

"Twenty five." Miranda countered.

"Straight,?" he asked Miranda nodded, "You got somewhere?" he asked. she nodded, and she turned and led him through the gateway to the garden and through the overgrown wet grass to the derelict outside lavatory.

"You got rubbers?" he asked.

"In my pocket," she countered and as he reached out and touched her jacket pocket so the material slid over her nipple arousing her once more.

Miranda watched as he rolled the black condom over his long pink appendage. He lifted her skirt as again she stood with a foot on the lavatory pan,

"Undo my hands so I can hold you." Miranda whispered, "Please," but instead she felt the advancing gossamer touch of the condom, easing into her soft wetness into which she unwillingly welcomed him, involuntarily adjusting her position to allow him easier access and greater penetration eagerly anticipating her release from pent up emotions, she threw her head back as his pelvis ground hers, stifling a cry of pleasure then all too soon she felt the warmth of the swelling condom and his thrusting diminished and ceased.

"My wrists, please." Miranda pleaded.

"Here's, thirty, I ain't got a fiver, you can owe me." he said as he reached two notes from his wallet and tucked them into her jacket pocket, then he kissed her cheek lightly, pulled up his zipper and walked away into the night.

Queenie was waiting down by the main road, Miranda looked towards the street where her car was parked but realised that she didn't have the key so reluctantly she rejoined Queenie.

"Money." Queenie said quietly,

"Pocket, he gave me thirty." Miranda replied quietly and succinctly.

Miranda shivered in the night air, she watched girls picking up men in cars, the barely visible looks and agreement between parties and then the quick dash to the corner for the girl to climb into the back door when the car stopped at the lights on its next loop of the one way system.

Miranda began to wish someone would take her away in a car, at least it would be warm, her crotch throbbed with abuse and with unrelieved tensions, she would have masturbated right there in the street if her hands had been free, but there was nothing to do but hope the next punter would have enough staying power to relieve her tensions and meet her needs.

Queenie sensed victory, she saw the longing look in Miranda's eye as a tall young man emerged from the pub alone, his tee shirt and jeans seemingly inadequate protection against the cold of evening yet he shrugged off any suggestion of discomfort. "Try him," Queenie said, "He looks fit."

"Just a minute, nip across the road." Queenie suggested as she took her little penknife and cut through the tapes on Miranda's wrists and thighs pulling aside the loops of tape to free her arms, "Go on."

Miranda sprinted across the road, she met the young man as he drew level with Queenie. "Whoah" he said in a mid Atlantic accent.

"Are you looking, for sex I mean," Miranda asked hopefully.

"Sure, but with a boy darling, sorry."

Miranda stared in disbelief, she looked back at Queenie, but Queenie was talking to three black guys in a black BMW. Miranda saw Queenie pull her top aside to reveal a giant breast before she climbed into the BMW and it purred off down the street.

"Doing business love." an Asian man asked, a man in long loose pants and a Turban seeking sex.

"No, sorry, I work for the Council," Miranda reminded him and herself, and suddenly she was alone, she walked across the road, the man followed her.

"You a racist or something only you did business earlier?" he asked.

"What do you want then." she asked resignedly.

"Just a fuck basically." he replied.

"Then its sixty quid." she said firmly.

"I could fuck something half decent for sixty quid," the asian man informed her nastily, "no thanks."

Miranda turned, and started to run, she felt sickened, her feet hurt her jacket slipped from her shoulders exposing her breasts so she stopped and slipped her arms through before running again, she stopped to get her breath, there was a spare key under the wheel arch of her car but no immobiliser fob, she could get in her car but not drive it. She didn't know her clothes were there behind the back seat, and so she ran, her feet blistering in the over tight shoes she just ran as fast as her rasping breath and screaming muscles would allow.

Down pavements laid by Victorians, down streets of redbrick uniformity, past corner shops and houses, then sensing her vulnerability to police interest, and impossible questions she switched to back alleys, and then to the network of new cycle tracks, built with the mid nineties housing estates but now overgrown she ran until she could run no more, her chest hurt her lungs were bursting and she collapsed onto the wet grass, she felt the constriction of her corset and ripped the zipper down, suddenly she could fill her lungs at last, she threw the garment aside. and staggered to her feet to run once more.

Her feet clattered loudly, she imagined the curious twitching their curtains as she clopped past, she tried walking on the grass verges but the heels sank in so finally she threw off the shoes and ran on the grass barefoot.

Thorns, jagged glass, rough concrete, thorns, all tore at her soft feet but her goal was coming closer now, her little box on the hillside, number thirty three. The familiar tree lined road seemed strangely unfamiliar as she walked instead of drove up towards her home, she had no idea of the time, but people seemed to be drifting home, bedroom lights coming on behind thick curtains, downstairs rooms darkened, she prayed she would not meet any neighbours out walking their dogs.

There were no grass verges to walk for the last few hundred yards, the ashphalt path or ashphalt roadway her only option, but despite the pain she sprinted the last few hundred yards to her house, a small two bedroom semi detached starter home, barely six months old, the paint-work still pristine, the driveway unblemished. She paused beside the door, lifted the stoneware frog, twisted its head off and retrieved her spare key from the cavity inside then opened the door to her world once again.

She slammed and double locked the front door, bolted it and fitted the chain, she stared at pile of junk-mail on the doormat until the beeping of the alarm reminded her to punch in the code, she paused briefly but when she saw her reflection in the mirror she rushed up the stairs, she turned the bath taps full on and cold water gushed from both instantly. she turned them off again and tried the shower, cold water poured from the shower head despite selecting the hot setting, she realised the water heater was turned off and she flopped down to sit on the floral print lavatory seat cover, dabbing her eyes with a bath towel as she cried inconsolably.

Miranda sobbed into her towel for several minutes before making her way downstairs to turn the central heating and the Immersion heater on, then she returned and sat and looked at herself in the mirror tiles along the wall above the bath.

She barely recognised herself, her hair was filthy, covered with cobwebs but swept into two pig tails it suddenly made her look nineteen again and but it was the shocking pink eye shadow and scarlet lipstick she felt made her look like a sort of a pantomine whore, if such things existed.

She waited for the water to become warm and then worked most of a bottle of shampoo into her hair and then held her head under the shower for an age desperately combing and teasing and battling to get her chestnut locks into a semblance of cleanliness.

Miranda moved to her bedroom, the master bedroom but barely big enough for her double bed and dressing table, she picked up her hair-dryer from the bedside table and started to dry her hair, luxuriating in the blast of warm air. She became used to the her appearance, the scarlet lipstick, the short skirt and tight top, but a smoldering resentment burned within her, a resentment that a man could have refused her offer to have sex, for fifty pounds.

Only yesterday she would have refused five thousand pounds, would never have considered such a proposition yet today she had offered herself for fifty and been refused, she had not even been tied up, it must have been her dirty hair she consoled herself, dressed like this with clean hair she could have any man she decided, any man, and that is what she realised
she needed, a man.

A man to share her double bed, or at least to christen it, to mark its virgin sheets, no one but the builders and her mother and sister had even set foot in the room, and they had laughed at her insistence on a full size bed. She stared at herself, raising her skirt to see her shaved pussy, she liked it she decided, was it six men she had sex with today, six men who still left her unsatisfied.

She reached for her secret box, the one her mother must not know about, the one where she kept her toys, she, lifted out the false bottom and extracted her favourite, she flicked the switch and the motor buzzed slowly and died, she ripped the battery cover off in frustration and realised she did not have any spares.

The long thick flexible pink toy remained unused unloved, her one attempt to use it a painful failure, maybe half a metre long and three or maybe four inches in diameter in sparkly pink flexible plastic and probably intended for use by pairs of lesbians, a joke gift which had not seemed funny when she received it long ago yet surely tonight it could be an answer. Slowly tentatively Miranda took one bulbous end and placed it against her sex, she stopped briefly to smear some jelly over the end and then watched her reflection as the monster slid up between her thighs, up under the leather of her miniskirt, and as she pushed she watched and felt it slithering inside her.

Part 5


Miranda woke suddenly, the sounds of morning, bird song, vehicles passing by, she felt sore, and realised to her disbelief she had fallen asleep with her long flexible double ended dildo inside her. it felt somehow comforting, but very wrong, the sparkly pink plastic contrasted with the pale pink flesh of her own shin and she felt as if it was stuck to her insides, but as she moved it a lovely warm wet feeling spread gradually through her, she pulled it a little then eased it back then tried again, and out and in and out, now she was using both hands, watching herself in the mirror as the thick plastic pistoned ever faster inside her until she felt a warm glow of satisfaction and lay back exhausted.

She stared at the toy as she extracted it, she felt better but she wanted to feel good, but frustratingly she could not rationalise what it was that she needed. She took the dildo with her to the bathroom, and she turned the shower on and peeled off her stockings, leather skirt and top as she waited for the water to run warm.

There was no separate shower in Miranda's small bathroom, the shower was above the bath, the shower head had a wall bracket but Miranda used it as a hand held item, the many tiny jets soaking and cleaning as she soaped herself with her other hand

The water felt good splashing cleaning, but to her horror she started to imagine it was a jet of hot cum, it didn't really work, there were too many tiny jets but the though excited her and she picked up the long dildo again, but frustratingly she could not work out how to manipulate it and herself and the shower head so as to sit with her legs spread and finally she gave up in exasperation.

She saw the bath was slowly filling, and realised the drain hole was blocked, fluff and dirt and a sweet paper, and only then did it sink in what a filthy state she had been in.

She dried herself with a large fluffy bath towel, and returned to her bed to think.

Miranda knew she could never report her ordeal to the Police, her career would be destroyed almost before it started, people would get to know the girl in the video was her. She would have to move away, she wondered if anyone would employ her if they knew of the video and she wondered how she could she have been so stupid to go in alone, when guidelines said two people must always be in attendance, and how could she have managed to arrive at the position of allowing the woman to overpower her, and how on earth had she ended up being raped by the man from Building Control.

She decided she needed to get her car and clothes back first, and then worry what to do next, she knew Queenie Jarvis her tormentor had reported she had gone sick with food poisoning so she decided to ring in sick again.

Miranda's sex felt sore and raw as she pulled on a freshly laundered thong, she tried tights and even some silk French cami knickers but could not get comfortable, so she chose blue jog pants with a white stripe and her trainers, with white ankle socks, a grey sweatshirt and a lightweight blue jacket.

Miranda drank her coffee and ate some toast in the tiny kitchen and between sips and bites she opened up her laptop computer to send her line manager and email to say she was ill, she had been violently sick yesterday and had come home early, but would be back soon, bad food not a tummy bug she guessed.

Miranda took the spare car keys from the drawer and looked out at the darkening clouds sweeping in from the west, she debated whether to call a taxi, but decided she couldn't really afford it, then she remembered the thirty pounds or was it fifty she earned by selling herself, was that all she was worth she wondered, a Taxi would be ten pounds at least, so she decided to jog back to town.

The thin fabric of the jog bottoms was no match for the cold and damp, but she enjoyed the sense of freedom as she ran easily retracing her steps of the previous night, and she felt a great sense of relief when she spotted her little Ford car parked where Queenie left it.

The car started easily, and Miranda decided to retrieve her clothes from Queenie's house Number Three, Alderman Lucas Drive, a former Council house just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate, but first she drove home, and went to her bedroom to retrieve the tight top and leather skirt Queenie had made her wear. she threw the garments in a plastic carrier bag and made herself a cup of coffee, while she summoned the courage to face Queenie again.

The coffee turned into coffee and biscuits then waffles and syrup before she felt refreshed enough to drive slowly to the estate, she drove slowly past Queenie's house before turning into Steward Drive to halt outside number Seven.

The curtains twitched, nearly new cars on the estate always aroused suspicion, usually they meant the Tally Man or Council busy bodies, but Miranda dressed as she was for jogging, confused them.

She strode rather than jogged around the corner, clutching the plastic bag of clothing leaving Steward Drive before passing twenty one then nineteen Alderman Lucas Drive until she arrived at the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three.

She strode down the path and banged furiously on the door.

Queenie stood immobile in the corner, her thin negligee pulled tightly round her, while goose-bumps and her gentle shaking betrayed her fear, the crunch of feet on broken concrete the confident rap of the policeman on the door it was as if all her instincts had been wrong and the bitch had been to the police.

"Come on answer the door Queenie, I know you're in there." Miranda shouted. as she moved around to look through the Lounge windows. "I can see you, Queenie" Miranda announced, as she peered in, and saw Queenie's ample bust protruding past the edge of the wall she tried to hide behind.

Miranda tried the door handle and found it was open, she pushed inside, listening and looking before carefully moving down the hallway to open the Lounge door.

"Oh, sorry I didn't hear you." Queenie lied.

"Just don't," Miranda suggested, "I want my clothes, I want my car keys and I want that film."

"Sure, " Queenie replied, "keys on the coffee table, bra in my room and the suit is in the car."

"Liar!" Miranda snapped.

"No, its in the back, behind the seats." Queenie replied.

Miranda produced the carrier bag and handed the skirt and top back to Queenie "Well I brought these back, so where is the tape."

"Ron has it, he needs to dub it, he says it'll be all right if we dub it, but don't worry, it doesn't look anything like you dear, honestly."

"No, I didn't recognise myself yesterday," Miranda admitted. "but I should report you, you raped me, or helped others to, I just don't why I'm being so reasonable."

"It was the rejection," Queenie guessed, "Sadie said you tried to pull after I went and you got a knock back, that's the hard bit love, not selling yourself but when they won't pay twenty quid." Miranda nodded.

"It gets worse as you get older." Queenie said, "When you have your tits done and everything and they go for the young ones, cup of coffee love?"

"Yes please." Miranda replied as Queenie made her way past Miranda to the kitchen
where she put the kettle on, "Sugar."

"Queenie, please we need to talk, two lumps, ah," Miranda said in confusion.

"You were getting so frustrated last night pet." Queenie announced, "I bet you flattened a few batteries last night!"

"I used a," Miranda broke off in mid thought, "No, no, we need to sort this out Queenie I want that tape."

"Ron says it could be worth about ten thousand, three for you, if you help dub it."

"Don't be ridiculous." Miranda said as she collected her car keys and zipped them into her pocket.

"Wouldn't take ten minutes, I could call him over?" Queenie suggested.

"No," said Miranda, "Three thousand, is that cash?"

"Yes," Queenie agreed, "I'll get Ron over after me two O'clock if you like."

"Where's my Bra?" Miranda asked.

"In the red room," Queenie suggested, "on the bedside table. take the skirt and that up when you go."

Miranda picked her way past the coffee table and out to the hallway before turning to climb the stairs, she opened the bedroom door and turned on the red light, her black bra lay on the bed, the shoulder straps re attached, Miranda heard Queenie behind her as she picked it up.

"What are you doing creeping upon me?" Miranda challenged.

"No, I just came to see if you found it, it's nice, I used to have one like it, a bit padded, like that, before." Queenie explained.

"Yeah before you had the implants, yes you said." Miranda said irritably.

"We got off on the wrong foot." Queenie suggested a she came closer to Miranda, her arms encircling Miranda's waist, as she sniffed Miranda's hair. "Mmmm, you washed your hair, it smells lovely"

"Queenie!" Miranda protested, but Queenie's hand was exploring down Miranda's jog pants.

"No knickers?" she queried.

"I was too sore after what you did to me." Miranda complained.

"I've got just the stuff in my cupboard," Queenie announced as she made her way to the bedside cabinet, and selected a tube of ointment,"Its Vanilla flavour," she explained, "Trousers down then."

Miranda slid her jog pants down then kicked her left foot free of them to allow her to spread her knees enough for Queenie to work the ointment into the soreness of Miranda's mound.

"Mmmm nice." Miranda moaned, as she half closed her eyes but then she heard a buzzing "Hey Queenie." she exclaimed as Queenie switched the Rampant Rabbit on and offered it to Miranda.

"No, not that." Miranda said but Queenie had another idea, it was a penis shaped pink dildo with a harness and a sort of short penis on the other end, which Queenie popped in her own mouth before pulling the elasticated harness over and round to behind her head.

"Queenie." Miranda squirmed, but the sensations were divine, Queenie seemed to know exactly where and how hard and fast to press, and Miranda started to drift helplessly into a distant land of pink pleasure, Queenie paused and released the harness from her head to surface from between Miranda's legs.

"I need a breather," she announced.

"No" Queenie you can't" Miranda squealed, but Queenie took the harness in her left hand and started to pleasure Miranda again.

"Close your eyes." Queenie ordered and Miranda felt th gossamer light touch of the makeup brush, she knew it was the sparkly orange pink eye-shadow, then the touch of the Lipstick and finally Queenie put Miranda's own hand on the dildo while she parted Miranda's hair into two pig tails and tied them with ribbons once more, Miranda's top came off easily enough, Miranda changed hands on the dildo as Queenie pulled it off and then Queenie took the soiled leather Miniskirt and made Miranda put her arms through one by one as she pulled it down to her midriff.

Miranda was to far gone to realise they were no longer alone until she heard Steve's voice "I heard voices so I came right up."

Miranda gazed through half opened eyes, it was that man from building control again, and here she was masturbating in front of him, she really should have wanted the ground to open up and swallow her, but she was feeling too excited to stop.

"I got Randa for you again you liked her yesterday, I could tell, but she was being silly, all that bondage nonsense, but she's hot today. look."

"How much?" Steve asked.

"Same as before, but quickly, she's so hot and ready for you, don't let the moment pass." Queenie urged.

Miranda watched with detachment as the man discarded his trousers and jacket but to her surprise he discarded his shirt as well, even his socks and his manhood was rapidly rising to full length as he walked past her to turn and kneel on the bed while he rolled on the condom Queenie had handed him, then he knelt on the bed between Miranda's knes and as Quenie took the dildo from Miranda and pulled it from her dripping sex with an audible plop so Steve drove his full length inside Miranda.

"That's so nice, Thank you, Miranda whispered as she nibbled Steve's ear, "I need to cum, make me cum, you cum tooo," Miranda whispered as Steve pounded into her in a frantic burst of over excitement and Miranda's arms snaked around him pinning him to her. He only managed about a dozen strokes in all but Miranda was so excited by Queenie that she felt as if she had exploded, or if something had exploded inside her, and as she slowly came down from her high she felt Steve shrinking and knew they had cum together.

"Thank you. that was wonderful, oh my, that never happened before." Steve complimented Miranda.

"Right this is a knocking shop not a debating society" Queenie pointed out,"so pay up, get dressed and get out."

Miranda watched Steve dressing, she wondered if he realised he had made her cum, she admired his broad shoulders, he was great she figured, but could she wank for half an hour before each time they made love, she realised she was confusing punters with boyfriends and turned her back on him and pretended to sleep. He patted her bottom playfully as he left. "When will she be here again Queenie" he asked.

Queenie thought fast, "She works in Soho usually so I couldn't say."

"I recorded you on audio tape," Queenie told Miranda as she sat on the edge of the bed, "Perhaps we can dub the video with it," Queenie smiled at her, "You feel better now?"

Miranda held her head in her hands, "Sort of, sort of relieved."

"You're not going to take the kids away are you?" Queenie asked.

"No." Miranda replied, "As long as no one finds out it's me on that tape."

"That's a deal then!" Queenie agreed, "You don't fancy making a few extra pounds?"

"No!"

"You're a natural!" Queenie suggested "but I suppose you had better get back to work."

Miranda dressed quietly, and when Queenie gave her back the plastic bag with her Leather skirt and tight top Miranda meekly accepted it, "Better do your make up," Queenie suggested and Miranda glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

"Oh gosh yes, I look like a." Miranda giggled, "Whore," she said as she allowed Queenie to begin to wipe away the garish lipstick and eye shadow and remove the ribbons from her hair.

Queenie followed Miranda down the stairs and watched as she walked away, stopping briefly to look back and wave to Queenie before she made her way back to her car.

Miranda took the rest of the day off, she found her clothes in the back of the car and returned to work on the Friday,

Part Six.

Steve Davies felt good as he made his way back to his car, he worried that he was becoming addicted to the excitement of visiting Queenie Jarvis's house for illicit sex in working hours but he couldn't seem to be able to resist.

His mood lasted almost a minute but then as he passed Steward Drive he saw that small silver Ford car again, he stopped and reversed back, and once again checked it out, the parking permit was clear, Miranda Holmes, Social Services.

Steve knew he was being followed, he considered waiting to see if the woman came back but decided to head back to the office, he checked the internal phone book and discovered Miranda worked in the same block as he did, then he discovered her address and most damning that she was "Sick" and not at her desk.

Steve waited for the inevitable call to explain and then when it did not come he tried to concentrate on his work but it was impossible.

Friday morning came and Steve arrived early driving into the almost deserted car park and picking a space with a clear view of the entrance where he waited for Miranda to drive in, he recognised the car approaching and then as she parked some distance away he saw the slim chestnut haired woman emerge dressed in a boring grey suit and his heart sank.

He had a vague hope that he could appeal to her better nature, plead that he was a passionate man just doing what passionate men needed to do, but when he saw her he realised it was hopeless.

Miranda saw Steve watching her, she wondered if he knew, then she realised he must know that it was she who he had been screwing, an uneasy stand off developed.

It was after nine that evening when Steve rang Miranda's doorbell, she answered it in her thick dark blue bathrobe which she wore over her knee length pink nightdress.

"Oh" she said, "You." as he pushed against the door chain.

"Bloody Hell," Steve swore.

"Don't push, I'll let you in." Miranda said, "How did you find me?" she pushed the door shut and unhooked the chain and reopened it wide enough for Steve to get through.

"Parking Permit, phone book." Steve replied as he moved into the hallway, Miranda motioned for him to go through to the lounge.

"Oh," Miranda responded, "Do you want coffee?"

"Coffee?" he replied, "Sure why not."

The kettle had boiled so it took but a second for Miranda to step into the kitchen and fill a cup. "milk, sugar," Miranda asked,

"Yes two, please." Steve requested.

"So, what do you want?" Miranda asked as she passed the coffee cup across handle first. "Sit down."

"I don't know really," Steve replied, "I just want to explain, I suppose." Steve remained standing.

"Explain, right" Miranda agreed, "Sit down, please, explain what?"

Steve sat on Miranda's couch, "I saw your car, read the parking permit."

"Yes." Miranda agreed.

"I was there," he said.

"Well obviously." she agreed

"I'm addicted." he said, "I can' t stop."

"No," she agreed. as she sat down on the chair facing him, "Do you want to."

"Yes, of course."

"Oh, so why come here." she asked perplexed.

Steve put his coffee cup down, "To explain."

"Explain what?" Miranda asked again, "What are you trying to say?"

"Thursday, and Wednesday." he replied.

"Yes," Miranda agreed.

"What are you going to do now?" Steve asked.

"Me, ah nothing." Miranda said.

"But your car was there, both times." he insisted.

"Right." Miranda agreed.

"You're just getting annoying now," He insisted.

"I'm sorry but what exactly do you want?" Miranda asked again.

"I need to know what you are going to do." Steve insisted.

"And what do you imagine I have in mind?" Miranda asked.

"Blackmail, report me to my line manager, why else would you spy on me." Steve asked.

"You really don't get it, do you." Miranda sighed.

"Get what?" he asked.

"I wasn't spying on you." Miranda insisted.

"So what was going on." Steve demanded.

"Go home and work it out." Miranda replied firmly.

Steve reached across and grasped Miranda's wrist, "Stop winding me up" he shouted sending a surge of excitement raced through Miranda.

"You're very strong." Miranda suggested, "Don't hurt me."

"Then for heavens sake, tell me what is going on." he insisted

"The woman, girl whatever, why?" Miranda asked.

"Why, I don't know." Steve admitted.

"How long has it been going on?" Miranda asked.

"Months, once a week, for months, just an hour, after lunch."

"And the same woman?" Miranda probed.

"Different ones, same house, she brings in girls from other places." Steve replied

"So why two days running?" Miranda asked.

"This new girl, well, I just wanted more." He admitted.

"And today." she asked.

"No, she has gone back to London." he said.

"What's she like?" Miranda asked.

"Beautiful, well not her face but her body, she is so slim and the sex is wow." Steve insisted.

"Blonde I suppose, big breasts." Miranda suggested with a smile.

"No, brown hair, like yours," Steve replied, "and brown eyes, like yours and."

"You are remarkably slow on the uptake Steve." Miranda suggested.

"I don't understand," Steve shook his head.

"About my height, I guess, and you cum too soon."

"Who says." Steve demanded.

"I was there, you idiot, don't you recognise me?" she demanded, "I was tied up, you raped me!"

"Oh," Steve announced, "Oh my god, but not yesterday, no that was done willingly."

"She tricked me, both times," Miranda insisted, "But yes, yesterday was fun."

Steve pulled Miranda towards him, holding both her wrists.

"Fifty pounds," she asked.

"You little whore," he agreed, "yes, okay fine,"

"Upstairs?" Miranda suggested,

"Yes upstairs," He agreed but Miranda kissed him.

"Too far, take too long." Miranda insisted, "Here's fine." her nimble fingers worked to loosen Steve's trousers as her undid her bathrobe and lifted her nightdress to expose her breasts, suddenly she was naked, but she was pulling Steve's shirt, baring his chest then she loosened the laces in his trainers and pulled them off, pulling at his clothes until he too was naked.

"Upstairs," Miranda whispered, and dashed from the room as Steve followed until they both dived onto Miranda's bed.

Steve spread Miranda's legs but she cried, "I'm not ready, and as he looked on in horror Steve realised he was about to cum, he rushed to the bathroom and shot his load over the lavatory.

Miranda wiped him clean with a tissue, and as she did so he started to stiffen again, "See he likes me, I think I'm ready."

Steve reached out to touch Miranda, his fingers trailed across her sex until she grasped his hand and forced him to explore the wetness within and then as he strained Miranda led him back to bed.

This time she sat on the edge of the bed, her legs spread slightly and Steve carefully eased himself inside her "now take it easy," Miranda ordered as his penis gradually sank from sight disappearing within her, "Not too quick." she cautioned.

"Shut up." he insisted "Stop nagging, I'm paying all right." the bed springs settled into a regular creaking rhythm.

"Mmm, nice," Miranda whispered, "Make love to me, make me cum and I'll waive the fee."

"Waive the fee, what kind of talk is that for a prostitute," he asked rhetorically.

"I'm not prostitute, if you make me cum then no fee." Miranda agreed but his best attempts failed, no shuddering climax, no exploding fireworks in her brain, just a nice warm feeling of closeness, as he shot his second load of the evening, but this time into her.

She held him as his manhood shrank gradually. "I didn't cum." Miranda admitted, "do you want a coffee or anything?"

"I don't get you!" Steve admitted, "Coffee, after that, you just offer to get Coffee." he said as he climbed from the bed inspected his manhood and sat down on the bed again.

"Tea then." Miranda suggested.

"For heavens sake," he replied, "didn't that mean anything to you?"

"Well, I didn't cum." Miranda admitted, "I suppose you had better get home to your wife."

"No, not married," he replied.

"Girlfriend?" she tried.

"No," he replied.

"Boyfriend, Mother, whatever." she asked.

"No, I live alone," he replied.

"In that case," she said, "What time shall I set the alarm clock for?"

"Seven thirty?" he suggested.

"Seven, then perhaps we can have some fun before work?" she suggested.




Queenie shuffled across the filthy brown fitted carpet, picking her way through videos, toys, pizza boxes, discarded paper plates, part empty coffee cups and various magazines as she passed between the brown leather couch, and the coffee table and past the wide screen TV towards the hallway and front door. She kicked off her shoes and put on her grubby pink fluffy slippers, grabbed her thick blue bathrobe which slid easily over her sheer black negligee and with her rich peroxide blonde hair in curlers she looked the personification of the English housewife, only her bra less, surgically enhanced, DD breasts and freshly re-touched garish red lipstick really jarred.

"Sorry love," Queenie said brightly, "I didn't hear you."

"May I come in," Miranda replied.

"Yes, mind the mess!" Oueenie cautioned as Miranda stepped cautiously through the doorway.

"Your Children Mrs Jarvis," Miranda asked accusingly, "Do you know where they are."

Queenie thought hard, she remembered they were watching TV then nothing, suddenly the answer became clear, "At School?"

Miranda, was surprised, "Really, then you don't mind if I look around."

"Be my guest love" Queenie suggested.

Miranda retraced her steps to the hallway, she peered into the kitchen diner where a mountain of dishes awaited attention in the sink, while the kitchen units and table appeared to groan under the weight of take away boxes and empty cans.

She started to climb the stairs, cautiously, carefully trying to avoid tell tale creaks from the treads.

"Take your shoes off if you're going upstairs." Queenie ordered, "And leave me Rabbit alone."

Miranda set her worn shoes neatly on the lowest stair, she felt strangely naked as she climbed the stairs in her stockinged feet, wary of needles, she ascended slowly.

The first bedroom was peculiar, small, dark, dirty, the single low energy bulb glowed feebly spilling its brown light across the filthy floor, the heavy worn curtains hid shutters which kept out the daylight, and as Miranda's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the two bunk beds, with bedding on both tiers, one either side of the room. Posters adorned the walls competing for space with clothes hooks and cheap worn storage units and shelves loaded with children's clothes and toys both girls and boys. It was as if both sexes shared the room.

Puzzled, Miranda tried another door, it opened to reveal a room full of junk, some of it discarded boxes once containing new items, much of just junk as far as Miranda could see but junk surrounded the worn single bed, a small TV Video unit, sat beyond the bed and the decor was tobacco stained, discarded clothing some soiled, some apparently fresh was liberally strewn around. The bed itself was in disarray, the duvet cast aside, the stained under sheet crumpled, Miranda realised Queenie had almost certainly been sleeping here until quite recently.

The next door opened into the bathroom, it was filthy as Miranda expected, green tiles, bulging and loose, covered the wall above a green bath with a cracked front panel, and a filthy green shower curtain hung from a rail by the distorted and leaking shower fitting.
A pile of discarded underwear filled the far corner behind the porcelain lavatory pan, and Miranda quickly shut the door to keep the smell of dampness and worse inside.

Miranda was hardly surprised, she had seen worse, at least there was no evidence of dogs, or drugs, but on opening the third bedroom door Miranda was unprepared for the shock.

Red lights, the light switch at the door switched on red lights which cast a dull red glow across the king size bed, the crisp white sheets effectively turned pink by its luminescence while the scarlet duvet cover and quilted headboard added to the image of debauchery and sin.

Scarlet carpets, scarlet curtains turning the daylight pink, everything red, the red walls, adorned, draped she soon noticed with various womens undergarments, each crisp and freshly washed and laundered, bras, panties, corsets, and as her eyes took in the scene she noticed on the far wall a collection of whips handcuffs and chains. Leather straps, harnesses, collars, small and large, and strange constricting devices, even gags filled a further wall, each on its own hook of bracket.

A shelf below the mirror held a wide range of cosmetics and below that Miranda could see various ladies toys lined up, Dildos, Plugs, Vibrators, all neatly aligned and arranged in order of size in complete contrast to the disorder the rest of the house displayed.

"Leave me Rabbit alone." Queenie suddenly shouted, "And don't use the bog."

Miranda suddenly noticed the lavatory, a glazed Porcelain standard WC but strangely erotic as the red light turned it pink, yet it was set within the bedroom, no screening of any sort, with a wash hand basin alongside.

"Rabbit" Miranda queried.

"Rampant Rabbit" Queenie bellowed, "I don't want it dripping with your cunt juice."

"Mrs Jarvis!" Miranda protested, "May I assure you." she had not noticed that Queenie had come upstairs.

"Nice innit." Queenie suggested, "It's where I work see, brings me gentlemen, have I shocked you miss prim and proper."

"No" Miranda sighed, "It's what I was led to expect." but she was still surprised at the contrast.

"Fucking hard work fucking men." Queenie expounded, as she stood in the doorway.

"But it must have its compensations, I expect you find it all very satisfying," Miranda replied breezily as she turned and went to return to the hallway.

"No, it ain't satisfying, that's why I needs me Rabbit." Queenie replied

"So who sleeps here?" Miranda asked stupidly.

"No one this is me work room, I sleeps next door and the kids have the other."

"What boys and girls together." Miranda suggested.

"There's no harm," said Queenie, "I gives em rubbers."

Miranda felt physically sick.

"Only Joking," joked Queenie, "They know the score."

"It says here you have seven children?" Miranda asked.

"Thereabouts," agreed Queenie.

"Well do you?"

"Probably."

"And two of them are called Tony!"

"Yes, different surnames see, to confuse you lot, works a treat don't it.!"

"Mrs Jarvis, please, I have to tell you that my recommendation is that they be taken into care." Miranda explained

"What about me money, me child allowance all that?" Queenie queried.

"Cancelled," Miranda said with a smirk of Triumph.

"Then they stops here with me." Queenie insisted.

"It's quite obvious that the accommodation is hopelessly inadequate, and. indeed that you are an unfit mother, a prostitute and a" The fingers of Queenies left hand curled around Miranda's face with a resonating slap as the force of the unexpected blow silenced Miranda instantly.

The shock threw Miranda off balance and as Queenie lunged forward Miranda found herself falling face down onto Queenie's bed, the breath knocked from her body. "uggh" she moaned, then before she could to recover Queenie had grabbed her right arm, and puhed it agonisingly high up her back pinning her down.

"Let me go!" Miranda squealed.

"How much?" Queenie demanded. "How much money do you want?"

"It's not money its the kids well being." Miranda squealed.

"I works hard for them kids." Queenie explained.

"Flat on your back, hard work, I don't think so." Miranda squeaked.

Queenie released her grip slightly "You bloody think it's like screwing your boyfriend twenty four seven don't you you stupid little bitch."

"Well isn't it?" Miranda suggested.

"No.it's fucking hard work, you imagine, some bloke you never met comes and you have to do what he wants, you know, bangs on the door, some coffin dodger with a stick." Queenie explained, "Or else some guy who has saved up and is so over excited he cums before he hardly gets it in."

"Oh, I never thought." said Miranda,

"Fucking judging when you don't know the half," Queenie complained, "I had tits like yours at school, B cup, but what's the good of them in my game, so I had to have all this fucking sillicon shoved up em, its no bloody fun, they don't unhook, I'm fucking stuck with them twenty four seven."

"Mrs Jarvis!" Miranda squealed, "Let me go."

Miranda struggled and tried to get free, but Queenie held her firm.

"No you bloody bitch you stay down." Queenie demanded.

Miranda heard rather than felt the zipper on her skirt pulled down, "Hey," she wailed, "now stop that."

"No, let's see what a straight laced pencil pusher looks like."

Miranda regretted wearing the thong, and the hold up stockings, but she liked to remain cool in the sultry summer weather, and.

"No, you can't do that" Miranda protested as Queenie edged the grey skirt down her dark stockinged legs , pushing it clear of the bed to fall in a heap on the floor,"Stop." she cried but instead she felt Queenie's hands on the buttons of her jacket then the gentle tugging as Queenie pulled it backwards down her back and off her arms as she pinned them behind her back.

"Stop that right now," Miranda squealed but Queenie was well into her stride, reaching out to grab a set of Handcuffs, keyless playcuffs but with a rachet, and Miranda felt real fear as she felt the cold metal clamping down onto her pale skin, firm immovable, grating against her wrist as she tried to pull her hand clear, and suddenly as Queenie attached the second cuff Miranda realised she was completely unable to free herself.

"Mrs Jarvis please." Miranda struggled to sit up but now Queenie was busy with the buttons on Miranda's tight white blouse.

"Nasty cheap rubbish," Queenie muttered, as she fumbled with the tiny buttons and button holes then suddenly she lost patience and she simply grabbed the back of Miranda's blouse and tugged, the stitching along the bottom edge started to stretch then suddenly it was tearing, ripping faster and faster exposing more and more of Miranda's pale back and shoulders until finally the tear reached her her collar and the garment fell in half.

"No" squealed Miranda but Queenie pulled again and this time the sleeves tore away and she was able to throw the ruined shirt away into the far corner of the room, leaving just the sleeves draped over her lower arms, "You're in real trouble now, that was expensive." she complained.

"It was tat you little liar," Queenie chortled "Supermarket Tat, nice bra though," she mumbled, as she flipped the catch, the tension released it fell forward revealing Miranda's small delicate breasts, "My god it's padded, my your chest's as flat as a bloke." Queenie exclaimed unfairly.

"That's enough!" Miranda squealed but as she squirmed around on the bed helplessly Queenie grabbed a second pair of handcuffs from a bracket on the wall, a set with a long chain between cuffs and fastened one end around Miranda's slender ankle and the other around the polished mahogany leg of the bed.

Queenie stood back from the bed and watched Miranda as she struggled to sit up. Queenie decided that she liked what she saw, "You don't look so bloody official now, " she observed.

"You're over-dressed you don't need those here." Queenie observed as she grabbed the waistband of Miranda's thong and pulled it firmly down, past the broad elasticated band atb the top of Miranda's pull ups and on down her shapely slender thighs to nestle around her ankles.

Miranda struggled flailing her free leg but Queenie was too strong and Miranda was left wearing just her pull up stockings, with her panties around her left leg and her Bra hanging loose from her shoulders.

"You look a mess," Queenie suggested, "Better get that Bra off," she announced as she fished a pair of scissors from a drawer.

"The, the straps unhook" Miranda said quietly, "Please don't spoil it."

Queenie felt around the straps and released the clips so she could pull the bra clear.

Miranda started to panic as she saw Queenie was still brandishing the scissors, she cut away the remaining sleeves from Miranda's blouse and then Queenie suggested, "Better stay really still," Miranda's eyes widened and she held her breath as she watched Queenie advance the blades towards the light brown curls of Miranda's crotch.

"Oh god no" Miranda pleaded but though Queenie was cutting, snipping, stripping away the downy fur from her pubis. Miranda was at least relieved that she was not cutting her prized chestnut hair, she shuddered at the thought of being left bald, forced to wear a wig, she gritted her teeth and prayed Queenie would be careful.

"Keep still or I might cut your clit off." Queenie advised as she worked steadily away, snipping with an expert quick clicking motion sending a cascade of fine hairs onto the the bed, Queenie wiped her finger along the long slit to remove stray hairs, she flicked the hairs on the floor and then raised her finger to her lips.

"You taste of piss you filthy cow." Queenie announced, then mocking Miranda's middle class accent she continued "You need to improve you personal hygiene if you're going to look after my men dear."

"No, look this has gone far enough." Miranda announced as she tried desperately to regain control of her situation but Queenie had other ideas.

Miranda heard the buzzing and thought at first Queenie had a vibrator, but then she realised it was a cordless shaver, "No time to get you waxed, so this will have to do," she told Miranda as she gently moved the floating heads over the the gentle folds and the stubble of Miranda's remaining pubic hair, leaving a smooth swathe in it's wake.

"Please no." Miranda pleaded as Queenie dextrously moved the buzzing cutters around Miranda's now hairless mound.

"There, that's better," Queenie suggested as she wiped Miranda sex with a wet wipe, continuing through her legs to freshen around her anus before gently inserting a finger tip within the enveloping folds of her Labia.

"No," Miranda pleaded once more but Queenie withdrew the finger and raised it to her mouth to taste it once more,

"Much more acceptable." Oueenie announced in the mocking middle class accent as she smiled as she delivered her verdict.

"All right, you've had your fun, now let me go!" Miranda demanded, pushing Queenie away with her shoulder, as she tried again to free herself but Queenie had other ideas, she stood up and walked to the far wall, carefully selected a black leather dog collar from its hook and a long leash from a drawer and as Queenie returned to the bed Miranda was helpless to prevent her fastening the collar around her neck.

Miranda was aghast at this further humiliation but she could do nothing to prevent it as Queenie pulled the leash to drag Miranda off balance once more sending her sprawling across the bed before she looped the loose end in a crude knot around the far leg of the bed.

Queenie took a second leash, from the drawer, tied it around the bed frame before she took down another set of handcuffs and after a brief struggle she secured Miranda's loose leg and despite her frantic writhing she pinned Miranda's legs firmly before releasing the handcuffs one by one so she could peel Miranda's thong off.

Miranda realised to her horror that as Queenie again tightened the cuffs around her ankles that she was spread untidily across the bed, her legs spread, her sex displayed and totally vulnerable.

Queenie stood back breathing heavily, the sweat running from her forehead, she wiped it away with her hand before wiping her hand on her sheer black negligee.

"You needs a corset," Queenie announced, she spotted something suitable on a hook on the bedroom wall and pulled it down, It looked like a regular corset, it even had adjustable laces but the zipper made it supremely practical and Queenie realised the gaudy red and black cheap leather effect corset would be eminently suitable for Miranda's new role.

It took but a few seconds for Queenie to put the corset in position, she simply pushed and slid it under Miranda's side before pulling it closed around her, before pulling up the zipper. to hold Miranda's tummy flat which had the effect of pushing up her vestigial breasts.

"My tits were just like that," Queenie announced, "Except my nips didn't stand up that much, are you a dyke dear?"

"No, I'm cold." Miranda protested, but the beads of sweat glistening between her breasts proved the contrary.

"Nearly done dear, lets make you look pretty" Queenie suggested as she selected garish pink eye shadow, bright scarlet lipstick,and deodorant from her toiletries on the shelf below the mirror. She put them on the bed and first started to colour Miranda's lips, Miranda jerked away but Queenie grabbed her shoulder length chestnut hair and used it as a handle to keep her head firm.

The thin line of dull red lips rapidly gave way to an uneven garish scarlet slash, sexy yet cheap, as Queenie liberally applied the lipstick then she was busy with the eye shadow, colouring Miranda's eyelids as Miranda cowered in fear of being blinded, blusher crudely applied gave the glow of health to Miranda's pallid cheeks, then more scarlet lipstick, but this time she applied it to the lips of Miranda's sex.

Finally Queenie stood back to admire her handiwork, but realised there was more to do, the chestnut hair cascading, spoiled the illusion, Queenie thought about cutting it but then decided to separate it into child like pig tails, she had ribbons in a drawer and with pins and ribbons she soon had Miranda's hair tied awkwardly like that of a rebellious teenager.

The effect of separating Miranda's chestnut locks into two ribboned pig tails was dramatic suddenly she was a caricature of innocence, a cheap tart personified, her own dark stockings and Queenie's corset her only clothing but clothing intended to accentuate not hide her sexuality.

It was the work,of a moment for Queenie to take out Miranda's diamond ear studs and replace them with a pair of huge, gaudy, ugly, cheap ear rings which she had found on a market stall, and suddenly Queenie realised she had done what she jokingly set out to do, she had transformed the social worker into a tart, a cheap tart, but not a prostitute.

The realisation dawned, Queenie had joked that Miranda could do her three o'clock client, now she realised it would be easier for Miranda to do the three o'clock, in fact there was no way she could get Miranda out of the bedroom in time, and the gentleman was only a weedy office worker with a premature ejaculation problem, all she had to do to was sell it as bondage and shut Miranda up somehow.

"All right, please enough is enough." Miranda again suggested but Queenie saw the ideal item hanging on the wall in front of her, a red and black ball gag with an elasticated strap.Queenie took it from its hook and held it close to Miranda's mouth.

"No" Miranda protested through gritted teeth, as she realised Queenie's intentions, but Queenie just held her nose until she needed to breath and then as her mouth opened Queenie forcibly and brutally pushed the gag deep into Miranda's mouth and tightened the straps to pull it firmly into place.

"Comfy?" asked Queenie, Miranda shook her head.

"Good you can do me three o'clock," Queenie said brightly as she took a tube of lubricant and squirted it all along Miranda's lipstick smeared slit before working some gently into the softness of her sex.

Suddenly they heard a knock at the door. Queenie rushed to the wardrobe and grabbed a simple skirt and top which she threw on at lightening speed before slipping a simple housecoat over th top.

"Back in a mo" she said and slipped from the room to descend the stairs.

Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.

Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.

Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.


Two

Steve Davies watched the office clock, occasionally glancing at his watch and the clock on his computer monitor as the time crawled towards Two thirty when he had to depart for his three o'clock appointment.

He fiddled with an email to colleagues, pushed papers from in-tray to pending, and back again and generally performed his duties as a senior council manager with the practised ease of a man with no conscience, he worried as always, he had an image to maintain, he could hardly have an office affair, without word of his little problem getting around, and the humiliation of leaving the lady disappointed after a one night stand was getting him down.

Steve knew the police were monitoring the CCTV his colleagues had installed in the red light areas, indeed he had spent many happy hours viewing selected highlights with colleagues and Police colleagues so picking up a whore was not really an option, hence his Three o'clock appointment with Mrs Jarvis at number three, Alderman Lucas Drive, just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.

Two thirty came around, Steve walked down to the staff car park, unlocked the door of his silver grey Ford using the remote control, hung his jacket on the hook beside the door pillar and drove carefully through the twenty mile per hour zone, trying not to attract attention until the Sat Nav led him unerringly the wrong way down the one way system to number three, he parked behind a small grey Ford.

Steve checked his tie in the reflection in the glass of the car door before he turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, he knocked loudly, then stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen, he listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, then his heart leaped as Queenie Jarvis answered. "Just a minute."

He heard footfalls as Queenie descended the stairs, he heard the rattle of the lock and chain as she prepared to open the front door and then he heard her again.

"Sorry Love." Queenie apologised, as she opened the door wearing a housecoat over a sensible skirt and blouse as agreed, "You're early."

Steve stared at Queenie's ample chest and felt his erection gradually subsiding, Oueenie looked just like one of his mother's WI chums, he thought.

"I got a touch of thrush, but my girlfriend's upstairs waiting," she continued, "Bondaged, she's a bit shy."

"Yes, alright, that's fine" Steve agreed readily, relieved that he would not have to try to perform for Queenie , "Is it the same money?"

"Extra fifty quid if you don't mind." Queenie simpered, "But she's really lovely, you'll like her, our Sadie told me what you like."

Steve smiled nervously, he never used the same lady twice, but even so when he asked Sadie for suggestions he never suspected she would share their experiences with a third party, "Oh" he exclaimed quietly.

"Highly recommended," Queenie reassured him, "do you have the money?"

Steve handed the notes over, "Leave the fifty on the bedside table upstairs for Randa will you" Queenie requested, as she returned the last fifty.

"Randa? is she foreign," Steve asked, nervously.

"Miranda, short for Miranda, but you're here for love not conversation" Queenie recovered quickly and suggested, "Don't stand on the doorstep, slip your shoes off and come upstairs."

Miranda lay on the bed struggling trying to free her wrists, or to spit out the ball gag which was hurting her mouth, or to free her legs or the leash or collar around her neck, Queenie had no sooner threatened to make Miranda "do" her Three o'clock, than they heard a knock at the door and Queenie had thrown on her skirt and top and housecoat and rushed downstairs.

The sound of approaching voices then footsteps coming up the stairs spurred Miranda to even greater efforts to get free, ugly red marks appeared at her wrists where the hard metal pressed against her soft flesh as she realised it could be her last chance to struggle free but suddenly she froze with shock as the door opened revealing a man, ruggedly handsome yet shy and nervous, smartly dressed, dark haired, broad shouldered, blue eyed she knew him, not by name but she recognised the face, the tie and suit, he worked in building control, in the offices on the third floor, two floors below her own office. She froze, uncertain of what to do.

"Mmmm ugghh Mmmm" Miranda tried to shout, to plead to beg but Steve had no chance to understand.

"Lovely little actress ain't she." Queenie suggested, "What do you think."

Steve stared at Miranda as she lay across the bed, he wanted soft compliant subservience not the restrained helplessness Miranda exhibited as she lay bathed in the glow of the red lighting, a crude painted whore, tied, gagged and bound yet for all that her sex glistened with anticipation, her perfect yet small breasts were real enough yet her constrained tummy held flat by the corset and the child like hairstyle were clearly intended to deceive as she was clearly older than a child, in her twenties at least but the prospect of sex without conversation was something Steve found tremendously exciting, perhaps too exciting he worried as his penis reared and strained.

"She's just raw sex" Steve replied to Quenies earlier query.

"Best get your kit off then," Queenie suggested "I got a hanger for your jacket and trousers." Steve started to undo his trouser belt before unzipping his flies, he stepped out of his trousers before handing his jacket and trousers to Queenie to hang up.

Miranda quickly realised the predicament she was in, clearly this man was committing a serious breach of trust, a offence punishable by instant dismissal by visiting a woman in works time and was clearly not going to want to get into more trouble.

"Mmmm Mmm" Miranda moaned "Help me." but Steve was down to his underpants, his shirt and tie on the hanger Queenie had handed him, and his manhood was straining,Steve carefully eased his underpants down his hairy legs showing Miranda the full extent of his straining manhood, Queenie looked on admiringly, almost straight with only the very tip emerging from the smooth foreskin but nice and long, six inches seven perhaps, it was difficult to tell without a ruler, but nicely streamlined, easy to insert, Queenie regretted not "doing" Steve herself briefly but remembered Sadie's warning of premature release.

Steve advanced towards Miranda dressed only in his socks and vest Miranda stared at Steve's penis, perversely hoping he would want her to suck it so he would remove her gag and allow her to scream, but no he crawled up the bed and rolled the condom Queenie had handed him over his straining penis and before she could really resist his fingers were at Miranda's sex.

Steve llaced his knees between Miranda's and eased her thighs apart and she saw and felt the tip of the condom against her crotch but it was starting to slide backwards towards her tight puckered Anus.

"Wrong hole love, she hasn't had an enema today so best not," Queenie suggested "and it's a hundred extra, here let me." she took more lube and as she sat on the bed she first worked more lube into Miranda's sopping hole, before grasping Steve's penis firmly to guide it between Miranda's the soft yielding flesh of Mirands's lower lips, it slid in easily for an inch or two pink on pink, Queenie looked on approvingly, she could not really see the join, it was like they had become one, not erotic like when a black cock pistons in and out but soft and loving.

"Nnnnnn," Miranda protested but Steve was already easing further inside her, spreading her as he thrusted. reminding her of what she had missed in recent weeks. reopening the tunnel where only dainty fingers usually played, reminding her of her femininity, making her juices churn and her heart flutter as first gently then more firmly then forcibly he thrust against her holding her shoulders to get a better purchase until finally he was fully sheathed inside her, his thick curly pubic hair raking her freshly shaven mound and tickling the area around her now exposed clit, his manly chest now so close her pert little breasts that she felt the hairs on his chest seemingly brushing her erect straining nipples. and his mouth so close to her shoulder she feared his hot breath would burn her skin.

Steve raised himself up, his chest away from her breasts until he stared down into Miranda's eyes looking but not seeing her distress or was it excitement, he wanted to kiss her scarlet lips bur the gag was there impeding him.

Miranda felt Steve's hot peppermint scented breath on her face, it seemed bizarre to be penetrated without being kissed, her sex still felt strained, but by now her arousal was easing the discomfort although she was still aware that with her arms tied behind her, she was helpless Steve continued to pin her to the bed and thrust into her making her totally his.

Miranda realised she could do nothing more to resist, she steeled herself for the onslaught and comforted herself with the sure knowledge that at least she would get some satisfaction, as he thrusted, once, twice, three times. four thrusts, her clitty started throbbing with excitement and then to her amazement and disbelief she felt his pre orgasmic twitching.

Steve also felt the onset of premature ejaculation, but it was too late, no counting of sheep or concentration on the Building Regulations chapter three subsection A could halt the rush of sperm from the boiling cauldron of his testes to shoot down the length of his shaft to flood her womb, to fill the condom.

"Nnnnnnngg" Miranda screamed silently, how could he be so selfish, she wondered, she needed something, some satisfaction, her interest was aroused her clit needed attention yet instead she felt the condom swelling then his penis contracting, and sliding from her.

"She's good isn't she." Queenie asked.

Steve nodded, trying to hide his disappointment with himself and his performance.

"Great," he said brightly.

"Nnnngggg" No what about me? Miranda tried to scream but Steve was intent other things and Queenie enjoyed seeing Miranda's discomfort and humiliation.

"I'll give you Lilla's card, if you don't want to come back here again." Queenie offered as she watched Steve throw the condom down the lavatory, wipe himself on some tissue paper, operate the flush and then take his clothes from Queenie before starting to dress again.

"Goodbye Randa, Thank you." Steve said inadequately.

"Nnnngggg" Miranda tried to reply, but as Steve went to remove Miranda's ball gag Queenie stopped him.

"She's shy" Queenie explained. "She want's her money, tuck it in her corset."

Steve's fingers trembled as he eased the crisp fifty between the tough leather of the Corset and the pink softness of Miranda's skin, she wondered, no hoped, that he would caress her clit or nipples or at least do something to relieve her, but he merely said "Thanks" and turned away, collecting his Jacket from Queenie and after kissing Queenie's cheek as he went to descend the stairs.

He looked at his watch, it had taken nine minutes, from door knock to return to the car, but he felt satisfied, elated even and even considered whether he should seek the same whore again. The thought pleased him, at least he stayed hard long enough to enter her and she was lovely, and her cunt was lovely and soft yet tight and he hoped she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Steve walked to his car and that is when he noticed the Council parking permit in Miranda's car window and a cold sense of fear came over him, "Miranda Holmes Social Services" it said, "On Call" how could they have known, he wondered, but more importantly, or was it coincidence, or was the owner, taking pictures or video at this very minute he wondered?"

Suddenly Steve needed to be in his comfort zone behind his desk.

Steve was indeed on video, Queenie's boyfriend had installed a state of the art digital Video recording facility with multiple cameras in the red bedroom and it showed everything, from the moment Miranda was naked on the bed right until Steve left the building.

With Steve gone Queenie returned to Miranda.

Miranda was crying, Quenie understood and took a slim six inch dilo from her shelf and gently slid it inside Miranda, she gave ten firm thrusts and then set it down.
"NNnngggggg," Miranda cried,

"Will you be a good little whore if I bring you off." Quenie asked.

Miranda's eyes darted around the room but finally she nodded.

Queenie stood up and selected a long leather belt from the wall, she slid it under Miranda and under her left arm but over her right, then she took a second belt an passed it over the left arm and under the right arm so Miranda found her arms trapped to her sides but then Queenie removed the Handcuffs from Miranda's wrists and pulled her arms to her sides.

"You said you would be good." Queenie reminded her as she took a large roll of tape and started to tape Miranda's left wrist to her left thigh, round and round she went with the sticky plastic until she was satisfied, and then despite Miranda's protestations she repeated the process on the other side.

Queenie undid the belts and returned them to the wall, she replaced the handcuffs neatly on the bedside cabinet where they belonged, and started to undo the cuffs and leash securing Miranda's ankles, before replacing each item neatly in its proper place, finally just the collar around her neck and the leash to the bed frame remained.

"You can use the bog if you want" Queenie suggested.

Miranda carefully pried herself up off the mattress and eased to he edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the ground before gently making the few awkward steps to sit on the porcelain of the lavatory.

Queenie watched intently, "Nothing more humiliating than doing a piss while someone watches is there sweetie?"

Miranda stared, her insides had seized up it seemed, she so needed to go and yet nothing would flow, but then Queenie leaned over her and as her hands caressed Miranda's belly so they heard the tinkle of drops splashing, then a gush and then it was quiet.

"Is that better?" Queenie asked, "Relieved?"

Miranda shook her head her clitoris still craved attention, "I'll get you some milk, keep your strength up," Queenie promised.

Miranda saw the chance for escape as Queenie rose and went downstairs leaving the bedroom door open, and as soon as she dared Miranda tried to lift the bed so she could slide the end of her leash from under the bed leg, she jammed her shoulder under the bed frame and with a almighty heave Miranda found the leash came free the black leather sliding under the polished mahogany leg.

She wasted no time, and wearing only her corset and stockings she crept as quietly and quickly down the stairs as she dared, the front door was locked and she could not get her fingers to the catch, "Oh, you came down," Queenie said in surprise, "I have your milk here"

Miranda had no choice but to follow Queenie as she caught hold of Miranda's leash and ked her into the lounge, the leather couch look inviting but Queenie looped the leash around a hook on the lounge door as she went to sit alone on the couch.

"Good for shagging is leather," Queenie said conversationally, "Oh of course your wank, I reckon you're my height, I'll get you something."

Queenie was gone but a few seconds before returning with a broom, the end of the long wooden handle beautifully rounded and polished from much use she showed it to Miranda before propping it against the wall.

"Try this," Queenie suggested, as she unhooked Miranda's leash.

Miranda stared at her, not understanding Queenie's intentions but Queenie put an arm round Miranda's shoulders and a hand on her crotch and made her bend at the waist, Miranda struggled to keep her balance.

Miranda watched horrified and helpless as Queenie brought the polished rounded end of the broom handle up against the pink softness of her glistening pubes and as Queenie''s fingers probed and separated the gentle folds of Miranda's Lipstck smeared lower lips Queenie quietly drove the hard dark ebony coloured wooden shaft deep into Miranda's sex.

"Turn round Randa." Queenie ordered and as Miranda turned awkwardly so Queenie closed the door trapping the broom head against the floor at the base of the door while at the same time she looped the restraining leash over the hook on the door once again.

"Wank yourself then," Queenie suggested, "I'll open the curtains."

Miranda tried to stand upright but a spasm of pain or was it pleasure raced through her, she relaxed and another spasm hit her, every time she moved the pleasure-pain became intolerable, her moans from behind the gag became more tortured and as Queenie opened the curtains Miranda realised if she could see out then people could also see in, but that hardly mattered.

Miranda moaned into her gag, Quenie smiled as she sat on the couch to watch Miranda, "I like watching girls wanking" she said, "especially stuck up bitches, hurry up its nearly school kicking out time."

Miranda tried to move away but the leash held her back she couldn't lift herself high enough to climb off the broom handle and her attempts were making Quenie chuckle as Miranda's lower lips seemed to grip the shaft lifting the broom bodily off the floor only for the handle to gradually to slide out leaving a glistening slippery trail on the ebony of the shaft.

Miranda was standing on one leg, on tip toe, stretching to the utmost against the restraining leash when her screaming muscles could stand no more and she slipped down onto the full length of the hard firm broom shaft exciting her more than she could bear.

"Arrrgggggh" she screamed, the gag completely unable to restrain the force of her screaming but then Queenie advised, "Not so hard dear just ride it nicely."

Miranda's insides felt as if they had been forcibly ripped from her, but the broom handle was now loose no longer sticking but moving freely and despite everything Miranda was starting to ride the shaft. rising and falling as she flexed her ankle muscles and as she now found she needed to bend her knees to get the full effect as her juices flowed, everything in her upbringing told her she must stop, but her body would no longer follow her heads instructions, there was no way she could stop, she just had to relieve the unendurable throbbing within her no matter what the consequences.

"That's nice," Queenie said, "Wave to the mummies going to the school," she suggested and pointed out the young mothers on the footpath just a few yards away and then Queenie walked up to Miranda and unfastened the strap on the ball gag.

Miranda struggled to keep the ball in her mouth but her writhing and pounding and gasps for breath sent it bouncing to the floor, "Nooooo" she wailed. "Please."

"Be quiet dear people are looking." Queenie warned but Miranda was past help.

"No, you bloody, I need, I need to, I need it," Miranda wailed, between gasps for breaths, " I need, oh my god," she wailed, "Ohhhhhh."

Miranda's breathing slowed, her thrusting slowed and she started to moan, "ohhhh, oh god, help me please,"

"Had enough dear? never mind." Queenie asked knowingly as she released Miranda's leash from the hook on the door. "have a little lie down." she suggested as she guided Miranda forward and down until she gently laid her head on the floor, pulling her away from the door and the penetrating broom allowing the sticky broom handle to drop to the floor with a clang.

"Oh Mrs Jarvis, I feel quite faint." Miranda replied.

"I'll get your milk dear." Queenie announced and she walked past Miranda and went to the kitchen.

Queenie put the glass of milk in the microwave to warm it before adding two crushed sleeping pills and a small tot of Rum and stirring it briskly.

Miranda was lying on her back when Queenie returned and Queenie supported Miranda and held the glass to her lips as Miranda drank noisily and greedily a few spots running down her chin to drop on to her breasts before leaving milky trails where they disappeared under her corset.

"Better?" Queenie asked.

"Mrs Jarvis, you," Miranda said as the tiredness hit her, "You really, Ah, really must let."

"Let you do what dear?"

"Me sleep." Miranda slumped gratefully down onto the filthy carpet turning her head so she rested on her left cheek and she started to snore.

Queenie fetched the dish cloth from the kitchen and wiped the sticky goo from around Miranda's sex, a sticky trail led down into the duct tape securing Miranda's wrists making it nasty and gooey and beyond into Miranda's black pull up stockings.

Queenie wiped Miranda dry with a hand towel, unbuckled her collar and leash and took them away back to the red room when she went upstairs to check the pockets of Miranda's suit and her handbag.

Queenie was going through Miranda's pockets when the mobile phone rang, out of curiosity Queenie answered it, "Hello."

"Is that you Miss Holmes."

"No, it's Mrs Jarvis here, that Miss Holmes had to go home in an urry, she got the shits real bad, stunk me bog out, she even left this phone behind, "

"Only she has an appointment."

"Ring the office, she told me," Queenie explained emphasising her common accent, "tell them I'm dying of gastric enteritis, she said, tell them to expect me when they see me, she said something about the staff cafe."

"Why didn't you ring?"

"I didn't have the number, sorry, " said Queenie, "but she only just gone, Mike from down the road drove her because she felt so bad, I had to lend her me dress cause she shit hers before she got to the bog. I hope it a'int courageous."

"I think you mean contagious but I'll pass the message on, you dont think she'll make it in tomorrow either?"

"Nor the day after, bye" Queenie said cheerily.

Queenie surveyed the contents of Miranda's pockets and Handbag. Car keys, tampons, Lipstick, pens and about Twenty five pounds and a few coins, no credit cards, no debit cards, Miranda was very cautious about carrying valuables onto the estate, "bugger!" Queenie said out loud then she remembered the fifty Miranda earned earlier, still tucked under the edge of her corset.

Queenie hung Miranda's grey jacket and grey skirt on a hanger, found a large plastic bag, and a smaller one for Miranda's shoes and then took them out to Miranda's small grey car where she locked them in the space behind the rear seats.

She saw her kids coming home, all in a bunch, Danny the eldest shepherding them along.

"Can you stop at Granny Fifield's tonight loves?" she said.

"Doing a special tonight mam?" asked Tania,

"Mind your own, anyway, here's fifty for her and twenty for tea."

Queenie watched the kids walk away, they often stayed with Eileen Fifield, Eileen's son Frank was Tania's dad or so Queenie told them, and it was handy for the kids to stop there when she got arrested or did a twenty eight day stretch for shoplifting or soliciting.

Part 3

Queenie turned to look at back across the un-mown grass towards her house, she stared at the peeling paint and the cracked guttering and the twisted TV aerial and smiled as she realised she could see right in to the front room where Miranda had so recently been masturbating with a broom handle, Miranda was out of sight now lying on the floor, bur perhaps she could sit on the couch where she could be seen again, like the whores in the shop windows in Amsterdam.

She turned to watch as a dirty Toyata Mini cab drew up and the driver reluctantly emerged to open the rear door for an elderly gentlmaen of military bearing to emerge.

"Major Fforbes, right on time." Queenie greeted him.

"Bit over-dressed old girl eh what" the Major replied.

Queenie looked at the Major his once ramrod straight back now sadly bowed, his grey mackintosh belonged to a different era as did his deerstalker hat while his suit bore testimony to the tailors art of half a century previously.

"I have a treat for you Major." Queenie promised.

"You're always a treat my dear." he replied gallantly, "Lead on."

"Oi, money." The driver whined.

"Account dear boy, put it on the account, and come for me in shall we say forty five minutes?"

"Well I want paying then mind." the driver conceded and reluctantly drove away.

"Bloody people," the Major sighed, "Wasn't like this back in India."

"No Major," Queenie consoled him, "But come along in."

Queenie opened the Lounge door and ushered the Major inside, he stopped abruptly as he saw Miranda.

"She's only thirteen," she lied, "Tania's friend, I thought of you."

"What," the Major spluttered, "Oh,"

"She had a little overdose," Queenie suggested, "so she probably won't remember anything, what do you say?"

"Is she a?" the Major asked leaving the word unsaid.

"No, she's had all sorts," Queenie confirmed, "filthy little cow, but you like the young ones don't you, and she's yours for an extra fifty over our usual, if that's all right."

Major Fforbes gazed at Miranda's lovliness through his tired old cataract filled eyes and in his mind he saw the young teenager Queenie described, he reached for his wallet, "D'you think she'll suck me when she wakes up?"

"She's all ready for you now Major, all lovely and wet and willing." Queenie expained.

"She can still suck the old love muscle," the Major continued, "Not as rampant these days eh what."

But Queenie had already drawn the curtains and as the Major hung his mackintosh on the back of the Lounge door , Queenie pulled Miranda onto the leather couch and slid a finger into Miranda's still slippery vagina to emerge glistening for the Major's approval.

Queenie walked to the door and flicked a switch beside the light switch and the unseen cameras began their recordings.

The Major fumbled with his fly buttons, and his braces before sliding his old but expensively tailored trousers to his knees, Queenie stifled a laugh as his dirty soiled long john long legged underpants followed and he moved closer to Miranda to offer his three inches of floppy partially excited manhood to Miranda's lips, Queenie cringed at the filthy almost back discolouration of the Major's testes, was it disease or merely lack of personal hygiene, she wondered, the smell suggested the latter, but she was glad that today at least she would forgo the evil taste of his disgusting member.

The Major leaned forward, his left arm supporting his weight against the high back of the couch, his right hand holding and aiming his three inches of circumcised wrinkled pinkness with its bulbous purple head until it caressed Miranda's scarlet lips and as the smell assailed her she yawned involuntarily allowing the Major to thrust his rapidly hardening member further into her sweet mouth until she coughed, exciting him further,

"I think you had better put it." Queenie said but before she could say in her cunt, the Major's face contorted as the big vein at the side of his neck throbbed and his breathing became ragged so much so that Queenie thought he was having a heart attack, or a stroke or seizure, "Please god not a heart attack." she muttered.

"I'm" the Major, muttered, "Going to cum in my pants I fear," he said as he lost awareness of the situation, as pleasure overwhelmed him.

"Yes dear, it's all right," Queenie reassured him "You cum if you want to love, I'll clean you up."

But it was unnecessary, his pink wrinkled filthy manhood jerked and a thick bead of grey slime oozed out of the dark orifice at the tip of the wrinkled bulbous purple head, flopping over Miranda's tongue and lower teeth just as Miranda turned her head away leaving a trail of slime across her cheek which oozed and slid down over her chin before dripping and sliding down.

to join the further weaker spurts of slime which hit Miranda's neck and ran down between her breasts.

"I've cum in my trousers Queenie, I'm sorry." the Major said as he flopped onto the couch beside Miranda.

"Never mind love," Queenie reassured him as she wiped his shrunken penis with a tea towel, "As long as you enjoyed yourself." she folded the towel and asked "Cup of Tea."

Miranda stirred and Queenie reached to clean some of the ejaculate from Miranda's mouth.

"Let me," the Major said.

"You keep that away from her cunt, I know you you old goat." Queenie replied, "She's too young to go on the pill."

He smiled, "I can dream" he said.

"And go to prison, no you pull your trousers up and come through to the kitchen."

Miranda rested on the couch, sleepily snoozing, dreaming dreams that she had been kidnapped and was being ravished in a Arabian harem,

She slept through the Minicab driver collecting the Major and didn't even realise Queenie's pimp Ron had come to check her over.

Ron was in his forties, reasonably fit, a bit too short for his own liking at five foot seven, with his skin sunburned and weather beaten he would almost have passed for an Asian except for his light brown hair. Ron was the local window cleaner, it was a good cover for his drug dealing, and he was wearing his heavy boots and his Denim work suit over a clean white shirt with the sleeves rolled up as he stood looking down at Miranda as she dozed on the leather couch naked except for her corset and stockings.


Ron had been Queenie's pimp for ten years and more, she was twenty something when they got together, she had three kids, no husband, no partner, no money, drug debts and a fourth kid on the way, Ron had this punter who liked them young and pregnant, and so the deal was done and Ron took 25%, he never hit her, sent her to rehab when her habit spiralled and got too expensive and had her breasts enlarged, three times so far. He never had turf wars with other pimps, never got pulled by the police, charged reasonable margins, provided good consistent quality gear, paid off the right people and won himself many friends.

"You're on your own this time Queenie," Ron announced, "You could go down for this, you still got that rubber mask?"

"You filthy bugger." Queenie complained.

"Might as well make a Video," Ron suggested, "Shall we get Mikey around."

"Her ass looks tight as a bloody airlock." Queenie reminded him.

"Look, order a Pizza and shut up." Ron ordered.

Queenie made the call, and she and Ron went to the red bedroom where Ron undressed, "I'll use the harness and take her from behind while she sucks Stevie off, Ron suggested.

"What do I do?" asked Queenie.

"Camera, hand held camera." Ron suggested, "Do it in the lounge, no you wear the rubber with the whip," Queenie pointed to the suit on the wall, Ron continued, "yeah long plastic boots, that rubber cat suit with the holes for your tits and the crotch cut out, that one," he pointed " and you tell the bitch what to do, tell her to ignore me fucking her and concentrate on giving head.

The bedroom seemed too small suddenly as Queenie peeled her housecoat and sensible skirt off and Ron tried to remember how the bondage harness was supposed to fit, and the realisation that the last wearer had been at least six inches taller, shoulder straps, breast straps, waist straps, crotch straps all had to be adjusted, "Want the boots" asked Queenie.

The elasticated one size fits all leather effect play boots remained on the wall.

"They make me look a prat." Ron complained.

"You look a right prat already," Queenie laughed, "come on make a proper job of it." she handed Ron the boots and watched as he pulled them on.

Queenie dusted herself liberally with Talcum powder before wriggling into the cat suit, getting her breasts through the holes was the worst part because her implant scars rubbed if it was not put on exactly right.

"What about the tail" joked Ron.

"Fuck off, I ain't having that up my arse," Queenie insisted. "Let me get my coat on and get downstairs."

The street lights were coming on as Mike Bates propped his Honda against the lamp post and took the boxed Pizza from the large top box, before striding down the path to number three.

Queenie opened the door in her housecoat, "Have you got a few minutes Mike?" she asked.

"Filming again?" he asked.

"Yeah, five hundred flat or a percentage," Ron's voice boomed."You want in?"

"Yeah, cash, please." Mike agreed, "Like now is it?"

"Yes dear, that's why Ron looks such a prat." Mike stepped inside to allow Queenie to shut the door and Mike looked up the stairs to see Ron, with the rubber mask on and a bathrobe which failed to hide his erection or the ridiculous leather effect boots.

"You got that fucking silly harness on again mate." Mike chortled winding Ron up.

"Lets call it two fifty shall we?" Ron replied.

"No offence mate!" Mike chuckled, "Where's the lucky lady."

"Through here love," Queenie answered, "She's a bit tired, but what we want is her sucking your cock while Ron shafts her from behind and I order her about."

Mike walked into the lounge, "Fucking hell, she looks rough." he exclaimed, "I reckon Ron's got bigger tits."

"I warned you." Ron said as he threw his bathrobe aside to reveal his hairy chest, the brass buckles and black leather of the harness contrasting with his lightly suntanned chest with its mass of curly dark brown hair, and down below his Penis pulled through the slot in the the crotch strap which was pulled tight into his arse crack somehow emphasised his raw maleness.

"I reckon you fancy me." Mike said as he grinned at Ron.

"Fucking shut up and get your dick out," Ron said sternly.

"Yes dear sit on the couch, Queenie suggested, "and Miranda can suck you as Ron comes up behind, I'll handcuff him and guide him in, is that clear?"

Heads nodded and Queenie playfully roused Miranda from her slumbers with a swat with the cords of her whip across Miranda's creamy white inner thigh.

"Ahhgghh," Miranda squealed, "Where am I?" she asked, then as realisation dawned she remembered but her chest and cheek felt wet and sticky, she tried to stretch but her wrists were still taped to her thighs.

"We're making a film and you're going to be the star, Randa, what do you think of that?" Queenie asked.

"Oh god no way." said Miranda as she blushed furiously as she saw Mike and Ron staring at her crotch,

"Mr Plonk is very ugly so he wears a mask," Queenie explained, "now get so you can suck Mike while Ron gets in position." Queenie clicked the camera switch and picked up the hand held camera, as Miranda frantically looked from Ron to Mike to Queenie as she tried to plan her escape but it was impossible.

Miranda stared at Ron in his harness, even in her terror she could barely stop herself laughing out loud but clearly it excited him from the gentle upward curve of his erection.

"Please no" Miranda pleaded but Ron ignored the script and pausing only to take a condom from Queenie and roll it over his thickening erection he grasped Miranda's slender upper arms with his rough calloused hands and easily lifted Miranda bodily to a standing position before pushing her heck forward with his left hand while pulling her waist back with his right arm to force her to bend from the waist.

Rons rough fingers rasped across Miranda's tiny breasts, his hot breath rasped on her neck, ad to her horror she found her nipples tingling with anticipation, visibly swelling, then she felt fingers at the lips of her sex, slippery fingers smeared with lubricant, dainty feminine finger, exploring, exciting, driving her wild.

"You like it don't you?" Queenie asked.

"NNngg" Miranda replied, "Please stop, I don't"

"All right dear, I understand," Queenie confirmed, "you don't want my fingers, you want Ron's cock."

For gods sake keep to the script." Ron muttered but as he felt Queenie's experienced fingers guiding him into Miranda's soft hot wetness he decided the script was a waste of time and gripped and kneaded Miranda's tiny breasts firmly as he forced himself deep inside her, her enveloping folds spreading easily to welcome his entry, Miranda gasped and gasped again as his second thrust took him deeper and the next deeper still but awkwardly, she didn't like it, the curve in his manhood pressed in the wrong places, it was too fat and, she realised not long enough, his balls slapped her crotch with every thrust now but then Miranda saw Mike advancing.

Mike stood beside the couch, his trousers discarded and his long straight penis straining, why couldn't he fuck me instead?" Miranda wondered instead of recoiling the way she would only this very morning.

"Suck it." Mike ordered, tentatively, slapping it against her cheek for effect.

"Open up dear." Queenie ordered,

"No!" Miranda shouted but Queenies fingers were ready and as Miranda's mouth widened Queenie roughly forced Miranda's jaw open revealing her little creamy coloured teeth and her long furry pink tongue.

"Uggh." Miranda exclaimed, "look at that disgusting tongue.

"I gowwa colg" Miranda said explaining she had a cold.

"Never mind," said Queenie, "Mike will fuck it better, you suck him nicely dear."

"No," Miranda exclaimed. but Queenie held her jaw firm as Mike tentatively eased the tip of his beautifully streamlined appendage between Miranda's scarlet lips, Miranda braced her self for the stench and taste of piss but to her shock it merely tasted of saltiness and fresh sweat

The tip of his penis weighed down her tongue as it eased gently inwards, and then she panicked, her breathing became laboured and Queenie jerked her head back and shoulders down to straighten her windpipe.

"Make a mouth cunt for him Miranda," Queenie requested, "let him fuck your mouth properly, you'll like it, both ends fucked together, it's lovely.
Miranda knew she was dying, Mike's prick was choking her, her world was going black a.s she started to pass out but she knew she had to survive, she gasped for breath sucking air greedily and sucking Mike's penis as she did so.

"Fucking hell can this girl suck," Mike exclaimed, "where did you get her from, is she a pro?

"Keep the rhythm going mate," Ron reminded him, "This is hard work." Ron humped energetically, the sweat pouring from his brow dripping onto her buttocks and dripping down her arse crack onto his rapidly pistoning penis sliding easily in a sea of Miranda's juices and lube which leaked and dribbled down her inner thighs without the addition of any sweat as lubricant.

Mike held Miranda's cheeks firmly as she she sucked or was it gasped for breath, the sensations raced around his shaft as it slithered in and out of her throat excited beyond belief by her tongue the constrictions of her throat and the hot and cold draft of her breath passing over his shaft like the gossamer wings of an angel.

"This is great,she must be real experienced." Mike exclaimed, as he tried to shove his testicles in Miranda's mouth along with his shaft.

"Shut up, we're going to have to bloody dub this," Ron complained, "Just shag the tart all right."

Mike suddenly misunderstood Ron's words.

"Fuck, she's a fucking pro," Mike exclaimed, "She might have aids, she's sucking my prick without a rubber."

Mike changed from trying to stuff himself as far down Miranda's throat as possible to trying to pull out but the movement was making Miranda choke, and as she gasped she sucked Mike even harder.

"Don't be daft, you can't get Aids from a blow job," Ron explained but Mike was determined, pushing Miranda's face away from him, pushing her against Ron as Ron continued to thrust back at her.

"Fuck I'm cumming" Mike wailed as he lost balance and fell back away from Miranda, as his hot white semen gushed forth in repeated spurts, shooting inches into her mouth then as she closed her mouth splashing her forehead, right up into her sparkling chestnut brown hair. splashing her eyelid then as the force diminished rolling off her chin and splashing onto her breasts before the final emission dribbled across her thighs.

"Fucking Tart." Mike swore as he slapped Miranda across the cheek.

"She works for the Council." Queenie told him, "Strictly amateur you bloody fool."

Miranda fell forward against the backrest of the couch burying her face into the leather cushions, smearing them with Mike's cum.

"Oh my god." she wailed.

"Stop it you'll tear me bollocks off" Ron cried, "Oh fuck."

Ron convulsed helplessly as he orgasmed, pushing Miranda ever further into the leather as she tried to support her own weight and Rons with her neck muscles until finally Ron dragged himself off her.

"Fuck the lot of you," Mike swore as he dragged his trousers back on and grabbed his crash helmet, even forgetting to take the cash for the Pizza as he rushed back to his Moped.

Miranda rolled onto the floor, gasping yet relieved to be alive, her hair a sticky mess, her breasts and face covered with creamy slime to which the dust and filth of Queenie's couch and carpets was now sticking.

The tears flowed, tears of humiliation and tears of frustration mingled with the creamy cum and trickled down Miranda's cheeks.

"Turn the Camera off Queenie," Ron ordered, "I reckon Mike fucked that up good and proper, I'll get changed and make a move."

Miranda heard Rons footsteps as he climbed the stairs, the rustling noises of him undressing and the sounds of him dressing and returning to the Lounge, "Get rid of her." he ordered.

"Yes Ron," Queenie agreed, "Any ideas.?"

"Whiskey, half a bottle then dump her in a shop doorway on the Mansfield, let the Vice squad take her in." Ron suggested, "Anyway I got to get going."

"I want to die" Miranda moaned,

"Not yet dear," Queenie suggested, "I have plans for you."


Part 4

Miranda lay helpless on her back on the floor between the brown leather couch and the Coffee table, unable to free her wrists from the layers of tape binding them to her thighs, cold, thirsty, sore, covered in cum and sweat and tears with fluff and sweet papers stuck to her skin and the now filthy and sticky corset and black hold up stockings that were her only clothing. She tried in vain to spit the cum from her mouth and then in desperation tried to swallow it, "I need a drink." she shouted as she heard Ron's car drive away.

She heard Queenie returning from the kitchen, she placed a glass on the coffee table beside her freshly laundered DD bra and sat on the couch and suggested ,"Drink this." as she brought the glass of clear liquid to Miranda's lips.

The smooth cool liquid refreshed Miranda, erasing the taste of fresh slightly salty cum, but the aftertaste was unmistakable, as was the burning sensation down her throat.

"Aaagggg thats Vodka" Miranda cried.

"Yes dear, best to be a bit pissed I always say," Queenie suggested, "Had enough?"

"For gods sake give me some water!" Miranda pleaded but Queenie just laughed, and stared at Miranda, trying to reconcile the filthy broken train wreck of a girl she saw lying helpless with the Council worker who came with threats earlier.

"Still going to take me kids off of me?" Queenie asked.

Miranda stared back. "It's my job."

"Was" Queenie corrected venomously, "You're a fucking little whore now."

Queenie had the germ of an idea, she put the glass of Vodka back on the coffee table and idly punched a button on the black plastic remote which turned the TV on before turning to return to the hallway. The familiar sound of the news reader reporting world events made Miranda's situation seem even more surreal as Queenie slowly climbed the stairs and went into her bedroom, and began to search among the boxes and suitcases and cupboards until she found what she wanted, a red jacket she once wore, before she had her implants, a stained black leather miniskirt which she thought Miranda might squeeze into and some scuffed and worn black sling back shoes with four inch stiletto heels.

Miranda heard Queenie moving around upstairs and somehow she levered herself off the floor, pushed the coffee table aside and rolled first onto her side and then onto her knees and then by degrees rolled first to a sitting position on the couch and then she she stood up uncertainly and unsteadily and made her way carefully towards the kitchen. She searched for something to drink. She tried to open the refrigerator but with her wrists secured to her thighs it was impossible, she tried to turn a tap with her mouth but it was immovable, there was nothing to drink on the shelves but when she saw there was a dogs bowl by the sink unit nearly full of dirty water she quickly knelt down and started to drink from it. cool sweet water, it slid like nectar down her parched yet slimy throat.
Queenie decided to take a shower, she undressed, throwing her clothes in a heap on the bed and walked toward the bathroom, her breasts swaying with the motion of her hips, but then she decided she didn't have time, and instead dressed in a tight white shirt, a couple of sizes too small in fact, and a suspender belt with stockings, with a short black skirt and windcheater coat, she chose trainers for footwear in case she needed to make a run for it and collected the clothes she had found for Miranda and made her way downstairs.

Miranda was still trying to lick the last drops of water from the bowl and didn't hear Queenie approach. "That's the dog's bowl you filthy bitch" Queenie chided her as she returned clutching the old red jacket, skirt and high heel shoes.

Queenie took the jacket and draped it around Mirandas shoulders before doing up the three black buttons which fastened it down the front trapping her arms to her sides again, "Can't get into it since I had me tits done," she explained, "This skirts fucked, you might as well have it, I can't get the cum stains out " she continued as she made Miranda stand and step into the tight little leather miniskirt which she pulled up and then zipped up with some difficulty, and then finally she made Miranda sit on the table while she forced the high heeled shoes onto poor Miranda's feet.

The shoes were at least two sizes too small, they cramped Miranda's feet, "Can you walk dear" Queenie asked, as she helped Miranda down from the table. The shoes cramped Miranda's feet so severely that she could barely walk but Queenie had forced them on and tightened the buckles until they bit deeply into Miranda's delicate nylon clad ankle but there was no doubt that they looked ridiculously sexy.

Miranda sadly said "No" as she tottered around unsteadily, as Queenie guided her back to the Lounge where she opened the curtains to reveal an evening of darkness and rain.

"We better put you to work young lady." Queenie suggested."You'll need these." she told Miranda as she took a hand full of condoms from the fruit bowl on the sideboard and tucked them unto the pockets of the jacket.

Queenie checked that she had Miranda's car keys as she gently guided her towards the front door, Miranda had been plotting how to escape from number three to the sanctuary of her car all afternoon but now as Queenie opened the front door and pointed to the car saying "I'll drive," she felt real terror. She froze but Queenie pushed her firmly onwards, to where the cold and damp assailed her, her heels scrunched on the broken tarmac, and as she approached the car she saw her pale reflection in the car window cast by the orange glow of the streetlights. She looked like a train wreck, like the dead junkies in the warning adverts.

She felt cold and afraid and above all dirty, her neck and breasts still smeared with slime, which had pooled and congealed under the corset, her crotch smeared with her own juices and liquid lube which had run down and soaked into her stockings She was only too aware that her breasts and pussy were naked under the jacket and skirt, her nipples grew stiff with cold, and then to her horror she felt herself getting damp again.

A lone man walking a dog watched as she climbed in to the front passenger seat of her car she knew he must have seen right up her short skirt, she knew he had seen her naked shaven pubes, her glistening slit, and she sat legs together as she felt the slippery wetness leaking from her, moistening the area round her anus as it dribbled down before soaking into the car seat.

Her hair hung awkwardly, sticky with cum, filthy with dust from Queenie's floor, she sat humiliated as Queenie sat behind the wheel.

"I haven't driven for years," Queenie said as she serched for the slot for the ignition key before starting the engine and crashing onto first gear with a grinding crunch.

"Clutch," screamed Miranda, but Queenie gunned the engine and they set off with a series of hops and jerks before selecting second gear which she stayed in for the next mile.

They parked behind Superdrug at the area centre, Queenie guided Miranda from the car and down the quiet street then down a back alley between the serried ranks of mid Victorian red brick terraced houses.

"Out you get." Queenie ordered, as she opened the door wide and pulled Miranda out of the seat."

"I can't people will see," Miranda whined.

"Don't make a fuss," Queenie warned, "Or you'll get arrested for soliciting, just think doing community service, no job, no reputation, you'll be doing this every night, instead of just the nights I tell you."

Queenie locked the car and pointed to a narrow alleyway leading down between the back gardens of two rows of red brick Victorian terraced houses, leading between the crumbling red brick garden walls, its cobblestones now covered by a thin layer of crumbling tarmac, she guided Miranda away from the comfort zone of the car, across the road and into the alleyway, street lights cast their glow from iron posts many at drunken angles now, posts which started as gas lamp posts perhaps a century earlier. Built for access to gardens, barely wide enough for a single car, single and double gates led variously to gardens and sheds and workshops, some gardens tiny oasis in the turmoil of city life, others rat infested tips which served equally as wildlife havens, some fortified with barbed wire, others open of merely protected notionally by a broken gate.

Miranda tottered awkwardly on her undersized shoes and high heels as Queenie led her among the puddles through the gentle rain towards the distant lights and sounds of the main road, past crumbling brick walls, with slogans, graffiti, broken bottles and discarded condoms and syringes.

"Good spot this," Queenie said pointing to a broken garden gate, "secluded like." they passed a section of wall rebuilt in modern breeze block and then emerged from the alleyway first into a similar alleyway running at right angles and after a few more yards into a rundown shopping street, Miranda recognised the "Royal George" pub opposite, and the second hand bicycle shop next door as being right in the centre of the red light area.

"Queenie, you slumming it again?" a voice from the shadows, a dark girl emerged from the shadows wearing jeans and sweater, "You'll get arrested dressed like that." she continued.

"Hi Bernice," Queenie acknowledged, "I've got to teach this bitch a lesson, thinks she's better than us."

Bernice emerged from the darkness of the doorway of the clothes shop, to stand under the lamplight, "fine, get arrested then," she peered at Miranda, "I know that bitch."

"Social services." Queenie replied.

Bernice lashed out slapping Miranda across both cheeks, "Bitch, I bet you're fucking enjoying this," she swore before she drove her hand up under Miranda's short skirt, seeking out her sex. "Bloody hell Queenie her cunt's leaking like a sewer." Bernice announced as her fingers probed then emerged glistening into the night air.

Queenie saw a man approaching, "Ask if he want's business." Queenie ordered.

"No!" Miranda cried.

"You looking mate?" Queenie shouted, but the man scuttled away.

"How much are you charging please?" a voice asked from the shadows. A slightly accented voice, Asian, Pakistani perhaps

"She charges Twenty for straight." Queenie replied.

"That sounds fair, is there somewhere we can go?" he asked.

"Down the alley." Queenie replied.

"No," Miranda squealed, "you can't."

"First night,"Queenie responded, "she owes big time see, you still on?" The man emerged into the lamplight his face still in shadow but his jet black hair glistening in the street light's orange glow

"What about you?" he asked Queenie, "Are you working madam?"

"Just pimping tonight mate." she replied, "time of the month."

"Are you on?" Queenie asked. The man nodded and as Miranda looked on wide eyed Queenie put an arm round her and led down the alleyway through the broken gate and into an overgrown garden.

The wet grass was inches long on the overgrown pathway and just inside the wall was the outside lavatory with its door hanging from only one hinge. Spiders webs hung like lace curtains, the iron lavatory cistern inside encrusted with rust, the lavatory pan shone white through the dirt, while the rain dripped constantly through the cracked ceiling tiles.

Queenie guided Miranda inside, before unzipping her skirt and jacket and pulling her skirt up under her breasts to expose her sex.

"Money, ask the gentleman for the money." Queenie suggested.

"No, please." Miranda wailed but Queenie silenced her with a slap and suddenly Miranda found herself saying. "Twenty pounds, ah please."

Queenie made Miranda stand with one foot on the lavatory pan and one on the floor to allow easy access for her customer, Miranda looked at him fearfully, knowing her sex was on full view. She shuddered involuntarily as his fingers probed her wet softness, as his wedding ring grazed across her clit as he accidentally aroused her, he felt her dampness, the warm willing wetness of a bitch on heat and he rushed to undo his cheap pants and release his member.

He was dark, Asian probably, and his breath smelled of curry, and he was circumcised, that was all Miranda knew when she sold herself that first time, and his penis was short and fat, and as soon as Queenie rolled a condom on him he just rammed his manhood brutally at her defenceless softness. She yielded easily almost willingly and she braced herself mentally for the relief which must surely come. His thrusts lifted her bodily, pushing her hair up into the spiders webs and crushing her soft lower lips with his pelvis as he thrusted like an enraged beast but then oh so suddenly he was sighing and slowing, softening within her as he shot his load into the condom, it seemed to Miranda it was over almost before it started, and her inner tensions increased coiling like an over wound spring until she burst into wracks of sobbing tears.

Miranda sobbed and cried, the tears of humiliation and frustration mingled again to drip from her chin to slowly slide their glistening path down her cleavage.

"She's good, so tight," the man chuckled heartlessly as he pulled up his trousers and tucked the crisp twenty pound note into to Miranda's corset, then still struggling to tuck his shirt into hos waistband he turned and walked away, through the broken gate and into the night.

Queenie pulled Miranda from the ruined outside lavatory, she pulled Miranda's skirt back down to cover her pubes but left the jacket open, bathing Miranda's breasts in the pale glow of the street lights , the gentle breeze exposing first one then the other small dark nipple as she walked.

"How was your first John." Queenie asked, "That was a good one, in and out quick and move on."

"It was horrible." Miranda sobbed.

"Don't be a baby!" Queenie counselled.

Footsteps approached as they emerged past the broken gate, a man approached, drunk, twenties, white, dressed in denim with white shirt, clean shaven.

"Ask him." Queenie demanded.

"Are you?" Miranda managed to stutter,

The rain fell softly on the broken tarmac between the redbrick garden walls, collecting in glistening pools where the drains were blocked, rain drops fell gently from above to glisten in Miranda's now cobweb enshrouded hair.

"Fuck off I ain't that desperate." he replied.

"Tenner for a blow job." Queenie offered, "the kid that is."

He turned, "You're on."

"No" Miranda protested but Queenie pushed her down, she had to kneel, or else fall flat on her face, so she allowed her face to be pushed forward, towards the shiny zipper on the clean denims where the man was frantically trying to extract his slumbering penis.

It emerged like a fat worm, a lazy fat worm wanting merely to, Miranda kissed it flicked it with her tongue, clamped her lips around it and as she almost gagged with the smell and taste of urine tried to suck it but it remained resolutely flaccid.

He pushed her away and she staggered before crashing into the wall shoulder first, "Fucking useless bitch" he screamed.

"You owe me a tenner!" Miranda screamed after him.

"You're learning girl." Queenie praised her, "try this chap." Queenie suggested as a tall young man turned the corner from the main street and approached them

"Are you looking?" Miranda asked tentatively.

"Something a bit more upmarket, no offence." he replied.

"She's got lovely little tits," Queenie told him, "I have to keep her bondaged because she gets violent."

"No, alright." the young man replied, "I'm not interested," he paused "How much?"

"Fifty." said Miranda, "Surely I'm worth fifty."

"No, you're all right."

"Twenty five." Miranda countered.

"Straight,?" he asked Miranda nodded, "You got somewhere?" he asked. she nodded, and she turned and led him through the gateway to the garden and through the overgrown wet grass to the derelict outside lavatory.

"You got rubbers?" he asked.

"In my pocket," she countered and as he reached out and touched her jacket pocket so the material slid over her nipple arousing her once more.

Miranda watched as he rolled the black condom over his long pink appendage. He lifted her skirt as again she stood with a foot on the lavatory pan,

"Undo my hands so I can hold you." Miranda whispered, "Please," but instead she felt the advancing gossamer touch of the condom, easing into her soft wetness into which she unwillingly welcomed him, involuntarily adjusting her position to allow him easier access and greater penetration eagerly anticipating her release from pent up emotions, she threw her head back as his pelvis ground hers, stifling a cry of pleasure then all too soon she felt the warmth of the swelling condom and his thrusting diminished and ceased.

"My wrists, please." Miranda pleaded.

"Here's, thirty, I ain't got a fiver, you can owe me." he said as he reached two notes from his wallet and tucked them into her jacket pocket, then he kissed her cheek lightly, pulled up his zipper and walked away into the night.

Queenie was waiting down by the main road, Miranda looked towards the street where her car was parked but realised that she didn't have the key so reluctantly she rejoined Queenie.

"Money." Queenie said quietly,

"Pocket, he gave me thirty." Miranda replied quietly and succinctly.

Miranda shivered in the night air, she watched girls picking up men in cars, the barely visible looks and agreement between parties and then the quick dash to the corner for the girl to climb into the back door when the car stopped at the lights on its next loop of the one way system.

Miranda began to wish someone would take her away in a car, at least it would be warm, her crotch throbbed with abuse and with unrelieved tensions, she would have masturbated right there in the street if her hands had been free, but there was nothing to do but hope the next punter would have enough staying power to relieve her tensions and meet her needs.

Queenie sensed victory, she saw the longing look in Miranda's eye as a tall young man emerged from the pub alone, his tee shirt and jeans seemingly inadequate protection against the cold of evening yet he shrugged off any suggestion of discomfort. "Try him," Queenie said, "He looks fit."

"Just a minute, nip across the road." Queenie suggested as she took her little penknife and cut through the tapes on Miranda's wrists and thighs pulling aside the loops of tape to free her arms, "Go on."

Miranda sprinted across the road, she met the young man as he drew level with Queenie. "Whoah" he said in a mid Atlantic accent.

"Are you looking, for sex I mean," Miranda asked hopefully.

"Sure, but with a boy darling, sorry."

Miranda stared in disbelief, she looked back at Queenie, but Queenie was talking to three black guys in a black BMW. Miranda saw Queenie pull her top aside to reveal a giant breast before she climbed into the BMW and it purred off down the street.

"Doing business love." an Asian man asked, a man in long loose pants and a Turban seeking sex.

"No, sorry, I work for the Council," Miranda reminded him and herself, and suddenly she was alone, she walked across the road, the man followed her.

"You a racist or something only you did business earlier?" he asked.

"What do you want then." she asked resignedly.

"Just a fuck basically." he replied.

"Then its sixty quid." she said firmly.

"I could fuck something half decent for sixty quid," the asian man informed her nastily, "no thanks."

Miranda turned, and started to run, she felt sickened, her feet hurt her jacket slipped from her shoulders exposing her breasts so she stopped and slipped her arms through before running again, she stopped to get her breath, there was a spare key under the wheel arch of her car but no immobiliser fob, she could get in her car but not drive it. She didn't know her clothes were there behind the back seat, and so she ran, her feet blistering in the over tight shoes she just ran as fast as her rasping breath and screaming muscles would allow.

Down pavements laid by Victorians, down streets of redbrick uniformity, past corner shops and houses, then sensing her vulnerability to police interest, and impossible questions she switched to back alleys, and then to the network of new cycle tracks, built with the mid nineties housing estates but now overgrown she ran until she could run no more, her chest hurt her lungs were bursting and she collapsed onto the wet grass, she felt the constriction of her corset and ripped the zipper down, suddenly she could fill her lungs at last, she threw the garment aside. and staggered to her feet to run once more.

Her feet clattered loudly, she imagined the curious twitching their curtains as she clopped past, she tried walking on the grass verges but the heels sank in so finally she threw off the shoes and ran on the grass barefoot.

Thorns, jagged glass, rough concrete, thorns, all tore at her soft feet but her goal was coming closer now, her little box on the hillside, number thirty three. The familiar tree lined road seemed strangely unfamiliar as she walked instead of drove up towards her home, she had no idea of the time, but people seemed to be drifting home, bedroom lights coming on behind thick curtains, downstairs rooms darkened, she prayed she would not meet any neighbours out walking their dogs.

There were no grass verges to walk for the last few hundred yards, the ashphalt path or ashphalt roadway her only option, but despite the pain she sprinted the last few hundred yards to her house, a small two bedroom semi detached starter home, barely six months old, the paint-work still pristine, the driveway unblemished. She paused beside the door, lifted the stoneware frog, twisted its head off and retrieved her spare key from the cavity inside then opened the door to her world once again.

She slammed and double locked the front door, bolted it and fitted the chain, she stared at pile of junk-mail on the doormat until the beeping of the alarm reminded her to punch in the code, she paused briefly but when she saw her reflection in the mirror she rushed up the stairs, she turned the bath taps full on and cold water gushed from both instantly. she turned them off again and tried the shower, cold water poured from the shower head despite selecting the hot setting, she realised the water heater was turned off and she flopped down to sit on the floral print lavatory seat cover, dabbing her eyes with a bath towel as she cried inconsolably.

Miranda sobbed into her towel for several minutes before making her way downstairs to turn the central heating and the Immersion heater on, then she returned and sat and looked at herself in the mirror tiles along the wall above the bath.

She barely recognised herself, her hair was filthy, covered with cobwebs but swept into two pig tails it suddenly made her look nineteen again and but it was the shocking pink eye shadow and scarlet lipstick she felt made her look like a sort of a pantomine whore, if such things existed.

She waited for the water to become warm and then worked most of a bottle of shampoo into her hair and then held her head under the shower for an age desperately combing and teasing and battling to get her chestnut locks into a semblance of cleanliness.

Miranda moved to her bedroom, the master bedroom but barely big enough for her double bed and dressing table, she picked up her hair-dryer from the bedside table and started to dry her hair, luxuriating in the blast of warm air. She became used to the her appearance, the scarlet lipstick, the short skirt and tight top, but a smoldering resentment burned within her, a resentment that a man could have refused her offer to have sex, for fifty pounds.

Only yesterday she would have refused five thousand pounds, would never have considered such a proposition yet today she had offered herself for fifty and been refused, she had not even been tied up, it must have been her dirty hair she consoled herself, dressed like this with clean hair she could have any man she decided, any man, and that is what she realised
she needed, a man.

A man to share her double bed, or at least to christen it, to mark its virgin sheets, no one but the builders and her mother and sister had even set foot in the room, and they had laughed at her insistence on a full size bed. She stared at herself, raising her skirt to see her shaved pussy, she liked it she decided, was it six men she had sex with today, six men who still left her unsatisfied.

She reached for her secret box, the one her mother must not know about, the one where she kept her toys, she, lifted out the false bottom and extracted her favourite, she flicked the switch and the motor buzzed slowly and died, she ripped the battery cover off in frustration and realised she did not have any spares.

The long thick flexible pink toy remained unused unloved, her one attempt to use it a painful failure, maybe half a metre long and three or maybe four inches in diameter in sparkly pink flexible plastic and probably intended for use by pairs of lesbians, a joke gift which had not seemed funny when she received it long ago yet surely tonight it could be an answer. Slowly tentatively Miranda took one bulbous end and placed it against her sex, she stopped briefly to smear some jelly over the end and then watched her reflection as the monster slid up between her thighs, up under the leather of her miniskirt, and as she pushed she watched and felt it slithering inside her.

Part 5


Miranda woke suddenly, the sounds of morning, bird song, vehicles passing by, she felt sore, and realised to her disbelief she had fallen asleep with her long flexible double ended dildo inside her. it felt somehow comforting, but very wrong, the sparkly pink plastic contrasted with the pale pink flesh of her own shin and she felt as if it was stuck to her insides, but as she moved it a lovely warm wet feeling spread gradually through her, she pulled it a little then eased it back then tried again, and out and in and out, now she was using both hands, watching herself in the mirror as the thick plastic pistoned ever faster inside her until she felt a warm glow of satisfaction and lay back exhausted.

She stared at the toy as she extracted it, she felt better but she wanted to feel good, but frustratingly she could not rationalise what it was that she needed. She took the dildo with her to the bathroom, and she turned the shower on and peeled off her stockings, leather skirt and top as she waited for the water to run warm.

There was no separate shower in Miranda's small bathroom, the shower was above the bath, the shower head had a wall bracket but Miranda used it as a hand held item, the many tiny jets soaking and cleaning as she soaped herself with her other hand

The water felt good splashing cleaning, but to her horror she started to imagine it was a jet of hot cum, it didn't really work, there were too many tiny jets but the though excited her and she picked up the long dildo again, but frustratingly she could not work out how to manipulate it and herself and the shower head so as to sit with her legs spread and finally she gave up in exasperation.

She saw the bath was slowly filling, and realised the drain hole was blocked, fluff and dirt and a sweet paper, and only then did it sink in what a filthy state she had been in.

She dried herself with a large fluffy bath towel, and returned to her bed to think.

Miranda knew she could never report her ordeal to the Police, her career would be destroyed almost before it started, people would get to know the girl in the video was her. She would have to move away, she wondered if anyone would employ her if they knew of the video and she wondered how she could she have been so stupid to go in alone, when guidelines said two people must always be in attendance, and how could she have managed to arrive at the position of allowing the woman to overpower her, and how on earth had she ended up being raped by the man from Building Control.

She decided she needed to get her car and clothes back first, and then worry what to do next, she knew Queenie Jarvis her tormentor had reported she had gone sick with food poisoning so she decided to ring in sick again.

Miranda's sex felt sore and raw as she pulled on a freshly laundered thong, she tried tights and even some silk French cami knickers but could not get comfortable, so she chose blue jog pants with a white stripe and her trainers, with white ankle socks, a grey sweatshirt and a lightweight blue jacket.

Miranda drank her coffee and ate some toast in the tiny kitchen and between sips and bites she opened up her laptop computer to send her line manager and email to say she was ill, she had been violently sick yesterday and had come home early, but would be back soon, bad food not a tummy bug she guessed.

Miranda took the spare car keys from the drawer and looked out at the darkening clouds sweeping in from the west, she debated whether to call a taxi, but decided she couldn't really afford it, then she remembered the thirty pounds or was it fifty she earned by selling herself, was that all she was worth she wondered, a Taxi would be ten pounds at least, so she decided to jog back to town.

The thin fabric of the jog bottoms was no match for the cold and damp, but she enjoyed the sense of freedom as she ran easily retracing her steps of the previous night, and she felt a great sense of relief when she spotted her little Ford car parked where Queenie left it.

The car started easily, and Miranda decided to retrieve her clothes from Queenie's house Number Three, Alderman Lucas Drive, a former Council house just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate, but first she drove home, and went to her bedroom to retrieve the tight top and leather skirt Queenie had made her wear. she threw the garments in a plastic carrier bag and made herself a cup of coffee, while she summoned the courage to face Queenie again.

The coffee turned into coffee and biscuits then waffles and syrup before she felt refreshed enough to drive slowly to the estate, she drove slowly past Queenie's house before turning into Steward Drive to halt outside number Seven.

The curtains twitched, nearly new cars on the estate always aroused suspicion, usually they meant the Tally Man or Council busy bodies, but Miranda dressed as she was for jogging, confused them.

She strode rather than jogged around the corner, clutching the plastic bag of clothing leaving Steward Drive before passing twenty one then nineteen Alderman Lucas Drive until she arrived at the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three.

She strode down the path and banged furiously on the door.

Queenie stood immobile in the corner, her thin negligee pulled tightly round her, while goose-bumps and her gentle shaking betrayed her fear, the crunch of feet on broken concrete the confident rap of the policeman on the door it was as if all her instincts had been wrong and the bitch had been to the police.

"Come on answer the door Queenie, I know you're in there." Miranda shouted. as she moved around to look through the Lounge windows. "I can see you, Queenie" Miranda announced, as she peered in, and saw Queenie's ample bust protruding past the edge of the wall she tried to hide behind.

Miranda tried the door handle and found it was open, she pushed inside, listening and looking before carefully moving down the hallway to open the Lounge door.

"Oh, sorry I didn't hear you." Queenie lied.

"Just don't," Miranda suggested, "I want my clothes, I want my car keys and I want that film."

"Sure, " Queenie replied, "keys on the coffee table, bra in my room and the suit is in the car."

"Liar!" Miranda snapped.

"No, its in the back, behind the seats." Queenie replied.

Miranda produced the carrier bag and handed the skirt and top back to Queenie "Well I brought these back, so where is the tape."

"Ron has it, he needs to dub it, he says it'll be all right if we dub it, but don't worry, it doesn't look anything like you dear, honestly."

"No, I didn't recognise myself yesterday," Miranda admitted. "but I should report you, you raped me, or helped others to, I just don't why I'm being so reasonable."

"It was the rejection," Queenie guessed, "Sadie said you tried to pull after I went and you got a knock back, that's the hard bit love, not selling yourself but when they won't pay twenty quid." Miranda nodded.

"It gets worse as you get older." Queenie said, "When you have your tits done and everything and they go for the young ones, cup of coffee love?"

"Yes please." Miranda replied as Queenie made her way past Miranda to the kitchen
where she put the kettle on, "Sugar."

"Queenie, please we need to talk, two lumps, ah," Miranda said in confusion.

"You were getting so frustrated last night pet." Queenie announced, "I bet you flattened a few batteries last night!"

"I used a," Miranda broke off in mid thought, "No, no, we need to sort this out Queenie I want that tape."

"Ron says it could be worth about ten thousand, three for you, if you help dub it."

"Don't be ridiculous." Miranda said as she collected her car keys and zipped them into her pocket.

"Wouldn't take ten minutes, I could call him over?" Queenie suggested.

"No," said Miranda, "Three thousand, is that cash?"

"Yes," Queenie agreed, "I'll get Ron over after me two O'clock if you like."

"Where's my Bra?" Miranda asked.

"In the red room," Queenie suggested, "on the bedside table. take the skirt and that up when you go."

Miranda picked her way past the coffee table and out to the hallway before turning to climb the stairs, she opened the bedroom door and turned on the red light, her black bra lay on the bed, the shoulder straps re attached, Miranda heard Queenie behind her as she picked it up.

"What are you doing creeping upon me?" Miranda challenged.

"No, I just came to see if you found it, it's nice, I used to have one like it, a bit padded, like that, before." Queenie explained.

"Yeah before you had the implants, yes you said." Miranda said irritably.

"We got off on the wrong foot." Queenie suggested a she came closer to Miranda, her arms encircling Miranda's waist, as she sniffed Miranda's hair. "Mmmm, you washed your hair, it smells lovely"

"Queenie!" Miranda protested, but Queenie's hand was exploring down Miranda's jog pants.

"No knickers?" she queried.

"I was too sore after what you did to me." Miranda complained.

"I've got just the stuff in my cupboard," Queenie announced as she made her way to the bedside cabinet, and selected a tube of ointment,"Its Vanilla flavour," she explained, "Trousers down then."

Miranda slid her jog pants down then kicked her left foot free of them to allow her to spread her knees enough for Queenie to work the ointment into the soreness of Miranda's mound.

"Mmmm nice." Miranda moaned, as she half closed her eyes but then she heard a buzzing "Hey Queenie." she exclaimed as Queenie switched the Rampant Rabbit on and offered it to Miranda.

"No, not that." Miranda said but Queenie had another idea, it was a penis shaped pink dildo with a harness and a sort of short penis on the other end, which Queenie popped in her own mouth before pulling the elasticated harness over and round to behind her head.

"Queenie." Miranda squirmed, but the sensations were divine, Queenie seemed to know exactly where and how hard and fast to press, and Miranda started to drift helplessly into a distant land of pink pleasure, Queenie paused and released the harness from her head to surface from between Miranda's legs.

"I need a breather," she announced.

"No" Queenie you can't" Miranda squealed, but Queenie took the harness in her left hand and started to pleasure Miranda again.

"Close your eyes." Queenie ordered and Miranda felt th gossamer light touch of the makeup brush, she knew it was the sparkly orange pink eye-shadow, then the touch of the Lipstick and finally Queenie put Miranda's own hand on the dildo while she parted Miranda's hair into two pig tails and tied them with ribbons once more, Miranda's top came off easily enough, Miranda changed hands on the dildo as Queenie pulled it off and then Queenie took the soiled leather Miniskirt and made Miranda put her arms through one by one as she pulled it down to her midriff.

Miranda was to far gone to realise they were no longer alone until she heard Steve's voice "I heard voices so I came right up."

Miranda gazed through half opened eyes, it was that man from building control again, and here she was masturbating in front of him, she really should have wanted the ground to open up and swallow her, but she was feeling too excited to stop.

"I got Randa for you again you liked her yesterday, I could tell, but she was being silly, all that bondage nonsense, but she's hot today. look."

"How much?" Steve asked.

"Same as before, but quickly, she's so hot and ready for you, don't let the moment pass." Queenie urged.

Miranda watched with detachment as the man discarded his trousers and jacket but to her surprise he discarded his shirt as well, even his socks and his manhood was rapidly rising to full length as he walked past her to turn and kneel on the bed while he rolled on the condom Queenie had handed him, then he knelt on the bed between Miranda's knes and as Quenie took the dildo from Miranda and pulled it from her dripping sex with an audible plop so Steve drove his full length inside Miranda.

"That's so nice, Thank you, Miranda whispered as she nibbled Steve's ear, "I need to cum, make me cum, you cum tooo," Miranda whispered as Steve pounded into her in a frantic burst of over excitement and Miranda's arms snaked around him pinning him to her. He only managed about a dozen strokes in all but Miranda was so excited by Queenie that she felt as if she had exploded, or if something had exploded inside her, and as she slowly came down from her high she felt Steve shrinking and knew they had cum together.

"Thank you. that was wonderful, oh my, that never happened before." Steve complimented Miranda.

"Right this is a knocking shop not a debating society" Queenie pointed out,"so pay up, get dressed and get out."

Miranda watched Steve dressing, she wondered if he realised he had made her cum, she admired his broad shoulders, he was great she figured, but could she wank for half an hour before each time they made love, she realised she was confusing punters with boyfriends and turned her back on him and pretended to sleep. He patted her bottom playfully as he left. "When will she be here again Queenie" he asked.

Queenie thought fast, "She works in Soho usually so I couldn't say."

"I recorded you on audio tape," Queenie told Miranda as she sat on the edge of the bed, "Perhaps we can dub the video with it," Queenie smiled at her, "You feel better now?"

Miranda held her head in her hands, "Sort of, sort of relieved."

"You're not going to take the kids away are you?" Queenie asked.

"No." Miranda replied, "As long as no one finds out it's me on that tape."

"That's a deal then!" Queenie agreed, "You don't fancy making a few extra pounds?"

"No!"

"You're a natural!" Queenie suggested "but I suppose you had better get back to work."

Miranda dressed quietly, and when Queenie gave her back the plastic bag with her Leather skirt and tight top Miranda meekly accepted it, "Better do your make up," Queenie suggested and Miranda glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

"Oh gosh yes, I look like a." Miranda giggled, "Whore," she said as she allowed Queenie to begin to wipe away the garish lipstick and eye shadow and remove the ribbons from her hair.

Queenie followed Miranda down the stairs and watched as she walked away, stopping briefly to look back and wave to Queenie before she made her way back to her car.

Miranda took the rest of the day off, she found her clothes in the back of the car and returned to work on the Friday,

Part Six.

Steve Davies felt good as he made his way back to his car, he worried that he was becoming addicted to the excitement of visiting Queenie Jarvis's house for illicit sex in working hours but he couldn't seem to be able to resist.

His mood lasted almost a minute but then as he passed Steward Drive he saw that small silver Ford car again, he stopped and reversed back, and once again checked it out, the parking permit was clear, Miranda Holmes, Social Services.

Steve knew he was being followed, he considered waiting to see if the woman came back but decided to head back to the office, he checked the internal phone book and discovered Miranda worked in the same block as he did, then he discovered her address and most damning that she was "Sick" and not at her desk.

Steve waited for the inevitable call to explain and then when it did not come he tried to concentrate on his work but it was impossible.

Friday morning came and Steve arrived early driving into the almost deserted car park and picking a space with a clear view of the entrance where he waited for Miranda to drive in, he recognised the car approaching and then as she parked some distance away he saw the slim chestnut haired woman emerge dressed in a boring grey suit and his heart sank.

He had a vague hope that he could appeal to her better nature, plead that he was a passionate man just doing what passionate men needed to do, but when he saw her he realised it was hopeless.

Miranda saw Steve watching her, she wondered if he knew, then she realised he must know that it was she who he had been screwing, an uneasy stand off developed.

It was after nine that evening when Steve rang Miranda's doorbell, she answered it in her thick dark blue bathrobe which she wore over her knee length pink nightdress.

"Oh" she said, "You." as he pushed against the door chain.

"Bloody Hell," Steve swore.

"Don't push, I'll let you in." Miranda said, "How did you find me?" she pushed the door shut and unhooked the chain and reopened it wide enough for Steve to get through.

"Parking Permit, phone book." Steve replied as he moved into the hallway, Miranda motioned for him to go through to the lounge.

"Oh," Miranda responded, "Do you want coffee?"

"Coffee?" he replied, "Sure why not."

The kettle had boiled so it took but a second for Miranda to step into the kitchen and fill a cup. "milk, sugar," Miranda asked,

"Yes two, please." Steve requested.

"So, what do you want?" Miranda asked as she passed the coffee cup across handle first. "Sit down."

"I don't know really," Steve replied, "I just want to explain, I suppose." Steve remained standing.

"Explain, right" Miranda agreed, "Sit down, please, explain what?"

Steve sat on Miranda's couch, "I saw your car, read the parking permit."

"Yes." Miranda agreed.

"I was there," he said.

"Well obviously." she agreed

"I'm addicted." he said, "I can' t stop."

"No," she agreed. as she sat down on the chair facing him, "Do you want to."

"Yes, of course."

"Oh, so why come here." she asked perplexed.

Steve put his coffee cup down, "To explain."

"Explain what?" Miranda asked again, "What are you trying to say?"

"Thursday, and Wednesday." he replied.

"Yes," Miranda agreed.

"What are you going to do now?" Steve asked.

"Me, ah nothing." Miranda said.

"But your car was there, both times." he insisted.

"Right." Miranda agreed.

"You're just getting annoying now," He insisted.

"I'm sorry but what exactly do you want?" Miranda asked again.

"I need to know what you are going to do." Steve insisted.

"And what do you imagine I have in mind?" Miranda asked.

"Blackmail, report me to my line manager, why else would you spy on me." Steve asked.

"You really don't get it, do you." Miranda sighed.

"Get what?" he asked.

"I wasn't spying on you." Miranda insisted.

"So what was going on." Steve demanded.

"Go home and work it out." Miranda replied firmly.

Steve reached across and grasped Miranda's wrist, "Stop winding me up" he shouted sending a surge of excitement raced through Miranda.

"You're very strong." Miranda suggested, "Don't hurt me."

"Then for heavens sake, tell me what is going on." he insisted

"The woman, girl whatever, why?" Miranda asked.

"Why, I don't know." Steve admitted.

"How long has it been going on?" Miranda asked.

"Months, once a week, for months, just an hour, after lunch."

"And the same woman?" Miranda probed.

"Different ones, same house, she brings in girls from other places." Steve replied

"So why two days running?" Miranda asked.

"This new girl, well, I just wanted more." He admitted.

"And today." she asked.

"No, she has gone back to London." he said.

"What's she like?" Miranda asked.

"Beautiful, well not her face but her body, she is so slim and the sex is wow." Steve insisted.

"Blonde I suppose, big breasts." Miranda suggested with a smile.

"No, brown hair, like yours," Steve replied, "and brown eyes, like yours and."

"You are remarkably slow on the uptake Steve." Miranda suggested.

"I don't understand," Steve shook his head.

"About my height, I guess, and you cum too soon."

"Who says." Steve demanded.

"I was there, you idiot, don't you recognise me?" she demanded, "I was tied up, you raped me!"

"Oh," Steve announced, "Oh my god, but not yesterday, no that was done willingly."

"She tricked me, both times," Miranda insisted, "But yes, yesterday was fun."

Steve pulled Miranda towards him, holding both her wrists.

"Fifty pounds," she asked.

"You little whore," he agreed, "yes, okay fine,"

"Upstairs?" Miranda suggested,

"Yes upstairs," He agreed but Miranda kissed him.

"Too far, take too long." Miranda insisted, "Here's fine." her nimble fingers worked to loosen Steve's trousers as her undid her bathrobe and lifted her nightdress to expose her breasts, suddenly she was naked, but she was pulling Steve's shirt, baring his chest then she loosened the laces in his trainers and pulled them off, pulling at his clothes until he too was naked.

"Upstairs," Miranda whispered, and dashed from the room as Steve followed until they both dived onto Miranda's bed.

Steve spread Miranda's legs but she cried, "I'm not ready, and as he looked on in horror Steve realised he was about to cum, he rushed to the bathroom and shot his load over the lavatory.

Miranda wiped him clean with a tissue, and as she did so he started to stiffen again, "See he likes me, I think I'm ready."

Steve reached out to touch Miranda, his fingers trailed across her sex until she grasped his hand and forced him to explore the wetness within and then as he strained Miranda led him back to bed.

This time she sat on the edge of the bed, her legs spread slightly and Steve carefully eased himself inside her "now take it easy," Miranda ordered as his penis gradually sank from sight disappearing within her, "Not too quick." she cautioned.

"Shut up." he insisted "Stop nagging, I'm paying all right." the bed springs settled into a regular creaking rhythm.

"Mmm, nice," Miranda whispered, "Make love to me, make me cum and I'll waive the fee."

"Waive the fee, what kind of talk is that for a prostitute," he asked rhetorically.

"I'm not prostitute, if you make me cum then no fee." Miranda agreed but his best attempts failed, no shuddering climax, no exploding fireworks in her brain, just a nice warm feeling of closeness, as he shot his second load of the evening, but this time into her.

She held him as his manhood shrank gradually. "I didn't cum." Miranda admitted, "do you want a coffee or anything?"

"I don't get you!" Steve admitted, "Coffee, after that, you just offer to get Coffee." he said as he climbed from the bed inspected his manhood and sat down on the bed again.

"Tea then." Miranda suggested.

"For heavens sake," he replied, "didn't that mean anything to you?"

"Well, I didn't cum." Miranda admitted, "I suppose you had better get home to your wife."

"No, not married," he replied.

"Girlfriend?" she tried.

"No," he replied.

"Boyfriend, Mother, whatever." she asked.

"No, I live alone," he replied.

"In that case," she said, "What time shall I set the alarm clock for?"

"Seven thirty?" he suggested.

"Seven, then perhaps we can have some fun before work?" she suggested.
2 comments

anonymous readerReport

2012-12-17 08:48:36
too many chapter repeats.

anonymous readerReport

2012-09-15 22:49:11
WTF is a pathe?

You can't even get the intro right drongo

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