Mme Anne ran copies of my SS card, filled out my W-4, fished around in her desk for and found a set of house and room keys for me.
While Jason's cum went first cold, then stickier, then crusty against my re-buttoned button-down. Ugh. The wipes had gotten the biggest globs of it off, but that film that always follows a load was forming fast.
"Here are your room keys," she said, standing and opening the office door. "You'll have a roommate-don't frown, It's really more of a suite. Session rooms are separate, anyway," she strode out of the room at a speed that was hard to maintain with dignity. Mme Anne must've been a ballerina or something, to speed-walk like that in those heels. I struggled to keep up and hold my shirt away from my sticky chest. "Carmilla is our only other girl right now, so there will be quite a lot of work. But she can help you."
The halls were , in my opinion, unnaturally clean for a place that supposedly housed so many boys. What I assume was marble with occasional goldenrod, green and maroon mosaic designs floors shined with the glow of ceiling-set art-deco light fixtures; willowy, leafy palms in little gold pots lined the long hallway. We turned a corner where the marble stopped, replaced by a thick Persian rug. Mme Anne stopped and slipped of her heels in a motion that was sensuous, fluid, standing first on the balls of one stockinged foot so that if flexed her calf into a tantalizing curve.
I wobbled on one foot, pulling off one of my white flats, catching a minty whiff of the white toothpaste I'd used to cover some of the deeper scuffs. I slipped, caught myself, and just kicked the other shoe off.
Mme Anne glared at me, cocking her hip to one side, her tall heels held in one hand.
"Anyway," she continued, turning from me and padding down the carpeted hallway. "We'll take care of all your affairs, your apartment and such. Any personal effects you need, you may retrieve in a few days. You need to concentrate on your work."
"Um, you said something about training?" I ventured.
She nodded. "Yes, it is really more similar to an internship, which, I am sure you are familiar with, at your age and with those shoes."
She turned and gave a small smile over her shoulder. "If you don't mind, under normal circumstances, I'd offer to have your clothes dry-cleaned, but..."
"Might be better to just burn it down and rebuild?"
"You're very colorful," she said, unlocking a door. "I know a few boys already who are going to like you a great deal, even without training. But for now, clean yourself up.
A thin white girl with long red hair lay on a divan, her bare back to us. She rolled over and smiled seductively, before her eyes went round with alarm-a subtle change that I recognized, though Mme Anne did not appear to.Holy. Shit. Sam, my roommate, Carmilla naked except for a pair of pink panties. My pink panties... I thought .
"Oh, good," the Madame said. "Carmilla is up. Carmilla, darling, help clean up our new charge before her first session. Jared was very pleased to hear we'd be receiving a new girl, you know."
Sam stood and flashed a new smile, one I recognized as her ''seriously, shut up, I've got this' look.
"Of course, Madame," She said, leading me off by the arm. "Is she my partner for the session at 8?"
"The very same," Mme Anne said. "Brief her on the details."
The Madam closed the door.
"I thought you were WWOOFing!" I demanded, annoyed, before Sam slapped a hand over my mouth and motioned for me to be quiet. We stood like this for what felt like a long time, until I heard the faint click of Mme Anne's heels on the marble down the hallway.
"She can't know we know each other," Sam whispered. "We have a session in about an hour, let's get you cleaned up and explain everything."
I nodded.
"And those are my panties!"
Sam just laughed and hugged me.
"God, I'm glad to see you," she pulled away "Even if you do smell like yuppie sperm."
"Why are you even here?" I asked, "I thought you were in Oregon, or Portugal or something."
I followed her into a bathroom the size of my apartment, outfitted with marble flooring and a big bathtub. She started the water, feeling it for temperature.
"I was," Sam said, "I got body lice a couple of hours out of Portland at a place I'm pretty sure is making the transition from commune to cult and quit. Long story short, farming sucks and I'm broke. I came back to the city, hoping you'd still be here, but then I read this ad..."
I started unbuttoned my shirt, stepped out of my skirt.
"Oh, Aly, that bra is so sad, give it here!" Sam said, tugging my duct-tape reinforced bra off and tossing it into the wastebasket. My breasts bounced with the force of her her pull, my nipples going hard in the chilly air. They looked so different, somehow, in this lighting-my apartment was dark, like all cheap apartments-with millionaire spunk dried to them.
"Anyway, read the ad, came here, been making mad money, and that's where we are now." She sat on the closed toilet as I stepped into the tub. "Here," she said, passing me a small jar of some kind of exfoliant.
"Thanks," I said, slipping into the warm water all the way up to my chin, "Carmilla."
She laughed. "I know, it's lame! But we have to have fake names. Safer for everybody."
"So, lesbian vampire was the first place you went?"
"No, Fanny Hill was the first place I went, and Madam thought it was ugly. So Carmilla. I thought it was funny, kinda-lesbian vampire, living as a sex worker for rich dudes."
"It's something," I said, scrubbing at my tits with the gunk Sam had given me.
